


You Found Me

by 9Hats



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Angst, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mafia AU, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Third Gym (Haikyuu!!)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9Hats/pseuds/9Hats
Summary: Japan is run by several cut throat mafias: Seijou, Shiratorizawa, Karasuno, Nekoma, and Fukurodani. They control everything from corporate empires to the underground. You can't enter a single store in any sprawling metropolitan without seeing on of their symbols on a store's window.After being held as POW for many years, the former elite squad Captain (Y/N) has made a living as a hitman. Yet in a second he ends up tangled in a dangerous conspiracy revolving around Japan's mafia that could lead to the end of a peaceful time. With the threat of war on the edge and an indifferent hitman, the horizon seems bleak.





	1. Prologue

The bombs came down in cascades. The desert town was in shambles. Shells of buildings were all that remained along with the husks of burned and out of commission vehicles. The dead were everywhere and dark stains splattered the sand. The stench of death, gunpowder, and waste wafted through the air almost causually as civilians ducked for cover. It was hard to tell the difference between the enemy and the innocents. At every move, paranoia filled your veins. You don't know who was a friendly, but to take the chance and kill a civilian was unbelievable.  
The mission was going to total shit. You were down by already half your men, including your trusted Staff Sergeant. You watched him gunned down by a hostile just as he pulled the clip of a grenade. You went in to salvage the body but before you could the grenade went off, leaving not a body but a mess of meat and blood. The sight was gruesome and you gritted your teeth against the pain of a losing fight. It was what you had trained for after all, but that was no excuse to needlessly throw away lives.  
Heat filled the air as shrapnel flew and sand rained down upon them. You ducked for cover, slipping under an armed vehicle just as a mine went off somewhere next to you. Screams tore through the rift of war, though went unnoticed by everyone. With a snap you checked the clip of your gun. With a curse you reloaded, hearing more explosions and even feeling the shockwave.  
“Captain (Surname), what do we do? They enemy lines are closing in.” They transmission came out staticy through the radio. Picking up the radio with a shaky hand you pressed down on its side.  
“Push back, find cover! We don’t have the manpower to continue the strike. Tell command base that the assault is a failure, the enemy has more artillery than we thought.” You yelled over the commotion and chaos around you. You precariously moved from your position only to be shot at immediately. Ducking once more you sprinted to the cover of another car. The gunfire followed as you breathed heavily. Somewhere close to you a smoke grenade went off, limiting visibility. Having no choice, you pulled out your gun. You could faintly see crouched figures, but what had you on alert was the foreign language of which they spoke. Taking a chance you fired, seeing them go down quickly or scattering.  
Getting back up you ran onto the street, seeing some of your men going for shelter. You had to merely glance at the building to see that a sniper was stationed in the top floor. Said building your soldiers went tinto. You hoped your men had seen the sniper but there was a chance they had just been desperate to find a shield from all the fire they are under.  
As Captain in an active warzone, you took it upon yourself to aid your soldiers knowing very well this could be their last stand.  
Crouching low, you took out hostiles as you made your way to the building. It was about 50 meters out, but you could make it. The weight of your vest was beginning to bother you, just as the layers that came with your uniform and body padding was becoming stifling. Soot covered your face and the taste of the bitterness of loss and sand sat on your tongue.  
Slipping into the building, you found your men going up a staircase. One of them clutched his rifle with trembling hands and jumped at every noise. He spotted you following them and put up his gun and started to yell.  
“Stand down, soldier! Don’t you dare point that fucking gun at me.” The soldier was but a boy as he looked at you under his helmet. “Goddamn, what the fuck are you doing out here kid? You’re shaking like a pussy.” The kid tipped his helmet down.  
“Sorry, sir” The kid looked at you with disdain at the fact of you insulting him. The other soldiers brightened at the face of their captain alive and as vulgar as always.  
“Captain, we got your message to push back. What do we do now?” The question hit you hard. You had assumed that the command base would send backup or at least pickup. But as you looked around it was unlikely.  
Only about sixty men surrounded on all sides by an entire battalion of the enemy, whom were strapped with heavy artillery and more ammo then you could dream off right now. You turned to your men, false determination on your face.  
“We wait for orders from command base, until then we’re gonna do all we can to blow these bastards to hell!” They gave a triumphant yell. Even as they cheered you were imagining them being carried away in caskets. Bright eyes that would be dim and cold.  
With your soldiers in tow, you plowed through the enemy forces in the building, effectively setting up camp. They placed down radio and prepared a station to record and give coordinates, if an air strike was needed. You watched as they hurriedly spoke over radios to others and as telegrams to command base were written.  
You took a seat and placed your head in your hands. The scent of sulfur invaded your nose and refused to leave. Smoke wafted languidly throw the air and made the atmosphere stuffy. As if it wasn’t hard enough to breathe already, your conscience began to lower onto your shoulders. This was the kind of stuff you expected to only come across in a movie. Abandoned and left for dead by your own people. Just because you had lost too many men to recover. This fight had been over by the time your Staff Sergeant died.  
Morose and solemn, you lifted your head to see on of the soldiers looking inquisitively at you. He frowned seeing your rather forlorn countenance. “Sir?”  
You grunted in response, running a hand through your hair.  
“You’ve been in for how long now?”  
“Four years.”  
“I heard you kicked ass on one of your first campaign. In the barracks they say you took out half of the enemy force just by yourself. Is that true?”  
“I’ll let you decide that, Kid. Say. Is this your first deployment?”  
“Uh...yeah it actually is. How’d ya know?”  
You lifted your head again and glared viciously at the young soldier before cracking a tight smile. “You smell like bitch.” The other soldiers guffawed as you put your head back down.  
It all seemed well until your radio went off. You jumped from your position. Just seconds before you had been dozing off before hearing hearing the familiar and despairing click.  
Grasping it tightly you took the connection, “Captain (Surname) speaking.”  
In the background you could hear shells dropping and gunfire which was normal enough, but the sheer amount of yelling and screaming was not. “Oh god! It connected! Sir, we’re gonna die. The’re tracking our signals. Disconnect everything.” A slight pause was heard, followed by a brief disconnection before the radio was back on. “Shit, we’re under heavy fire.” You quickly yelled to a soldier to take coordinates of their position. Biting a lip you told the others to pack up, it was time to roll out.  
“How’s everything looking, Sanchez? “ you asked over the radio anxiously.  
“It’s not good, sir, I think I’m the only one left.”  
“Are you kidding?”  
“No, I’m not. It’s a shithole out here and they aren’t letting up.”  
The signal was suddenly disconnected. An eerie silence fell upon the room.  
The signal picked back up on the radio, you pressed it tightly to your ear. It was a throaty laugh followed by muffled screams and finally a lone gunshot.The signal went dead and remained quiet. That was it you knew. Sanchez, who was running communications was dead. They had your locations and soon they’d come to wipe the rest of you out.  
The rage of losing another man swelled up and you threw the radio at a wall. You spun and glared at your men, “ Disconnect everything. They’re using our signals to track our location down.”  
They did as you ordered as you mounted your gun on your shoulder. Peering out an open window, you spotted hostiles about 100 meters out. They were blurry due to the dust and distance but none of your men were alive. It was almost a process of elimination and it hurt you to think that. They moved in, motioning towards the building you reside currently. Turing back to face the expecting soldiers.  
“Move out!”  
The moment you stepped out of the building you were already dead.You were ambushed and surrounded by the enemy. There had to be at least 20 of them. What had happened? You had all the blind spots covered so how did they move in like that? Even if they already knew your location. Then you noticed that the shaky soldier from before who’d almost shot ou was missing. “Wait, where is Private Corrals?” You called out. As you watched the enemy, you noticed that they made no move to kill you all. They crouched with their guns at the ready but they seemed to have no inclination to actually pull the trigger.  
“I don’t know, sir, he said he had to take a piss and I haven’t seen him since.”  
Another soldier called out, “Why aren’t they shooting?” You were curious as to that yourself but you said nothing instead scanning over the men surrounding you. They whispered among themselves in their language, most of which you picked up on. Something about a boss and a traitor. Then your eyes caught something familiar, shockingly familiar. It was your own uniform there in the crowd and then you saw who was wearing it.  
That pissy soldier with Parkinson’s that had nearly shot you. Your eyebrow twitched and your head felt hot, “Mind explaining this BS to me, Private Corrals?” Your voice was deep and booming and one of a strong commanding officer. The private stayed silent and simply looked down at his beige boots. “Hey, Private Corrals? Did you get your stupid ass kidnapped?”  
“No.” He looks up and you meet his eyes seeing rage and a hint of smugness. “I’m just tired of being on the losing end of a fight.” Puzzlement could be found in your hollow gaze as you digested the words. They hit you like a bug sinking in molasses.  
“Huh? So you’re the traitor they mentioned?” The double-crosser was taken aback by your nonchalant tone, when inside a fire was aflame. You pretended to pick at your fingernails despite wearing gloves. “So what’re you going to do now?” Your eyes bore into the Private’s head.  
Corrals cleared his throat and looked strangely flushed. “My accomplices are willing to spare your lives if you give up the captain.”  
The soldiers immediately began to yell at the mutinous Corrals, calling him all kinds of obcenstites. One of them even put up their gun and threatened to shoot, until you told him to holster the weapon. You kept an itchy hand close to your own firearm. At a moment’s notice you were ready to fire and something in you said that you might just have to do just that.  
What you don’t see is one soldier whisper something to another. An unknown message passes between them as occasional glances are thrown to an oblivious you. Your eyes are set on the hostiles patiently waiting before you, gauging their words and expressions for some clue of what would happen next.  
“We’ll do it,” a soldier speaks up. Your head whirls around and you find that two soldiers have flanked you on either side. You jerk away and back up, in a low crouch and already breathless. You narrow your eyes at the soldiers who now stand with enemy. And you thought this mission was going to shit before.  
“What the hell is this?” You asked even though you were well aware of what was happening.  
“We don’t want to hurt you Captain, just go with them peacefully.” They tried to persuade you, saying that they would go back to base and get you help. It was better if they got of this alive and have it not be hat all of you were dead, right?  
You wipe soot from your face and reach for your handgun, irs weight comfortably settles in your hand a you peer through dirt caked eyelashes. You spot two open ares through the men that would give you a chance to get through and take care of the enemy. Although you couldn’t tell who was the enemy now, even among your own comrades.  
One shook his head saying, “It didn’t have to be this way, if you had just gone quietly, Captain.” He pulled out a tactical blade before lunging at you. Swiftly dodging you pulled your gun. Kicking his feet out from under him, you shot him through the head just as he hit the ground. Without a silencer the gunshot was loud but the tension in the air seemed to reverb the sound and make it even louder.  
A quiet gasp could be heard and then you looked up. A blank, placid expression on your face as you took aim and killed another of your soldiers. The bullet ripped through his chest and sent him flying just as the enemy fired at you. Rolling to safety behind another soldier, he took the shot for you. It was a bit unfavourable to use him as a meat shield but you had no choice in the circumstance. Pushing your conscience away to the back of your head you unleashed the super soldier that had once killed over fifty men with your bare hands.  
From there it was a bloodbath. As you dodged bullets and killed your own men, now the enemy. Soon your clip emptied and you fell in exhaustion. As soon as you collapsed, the bullets stopped raining down. The men thought you had finally been hit and were now down. It wasn’t far from the truth, except for the part where you had simply been grazed a couple of times and the fact that everything hurt. Lifting a head weakly you found the eyes of Private Corrals, who cowered behind the enemy. How had you not killed him first? You chastised yourself for the idiotic mistake, as burtal of an idea as it was. You felt men picking you up and throwing you in the back of a car. It was far to blurry for you to tell as exhaustion took hold and dulled your senses immensely. Maybe you had taken more hit than you thought? It was your final thought before a gun butted your head, effectively sending you unconscious.


	2. Chapter One - In Which You Buy Crab and Beat Up Some Kids In An Alley

You pushed through the aisles with an exasperated expression. Seeing the evident distaste on your face, people naturally parted for you to get through. You were just hoping there’d be crab left on sale. Running a hand through your hair, you decided between garlic powder and minced garlic. With a shrug of indifference, you toss both of them into the cart before heading to checkout.  
You walk out of the store into the night, bags in tow. Pulling your surgical face mask up and placing a dark cap on your head you began the trek home. The city passed around you in bleary lights and stages of decay. You had chosen the dangerous little city for a reason. It had convenient routes to central Japan and gang activity was exceptionally high here.   
You found work as a gun-for-hire in the underground, offering your services to crooks in exchange for large sums of money. It wasn’t clean work but it certainly paid the bills. It was always the clean up that bothered you. It irked you to pick up entrails or brain matter off the ground.  
Lost in thought you almost didn’t notice the vibration in your pocket. Slipping the phone out you took the call. The blue light of the phone alighted your features.  
“(Y/n) (L/n) speaking.”  
“Mr.(L/n), this is the Seijou group, we’re calling to inform you that we have a contract for you.”  
“Okay then, where would you like to discuss?”  
“Please come to our headquarters. One of our drivers will be there to pick you up from your house in a few hours. Please come geared up and prepared to kill.”  
Your thumb hovered over the end call button before you added as an afterthought, “I always am.” pressing the button you ended the call promptly and continued on your way. Once home you would get ready for pickup and then negotiations.   
Rounding a corner by a pastry shop you liked, you heard a rather loud thud followed by a couple of bangs. Stopping you gauged the distance and your eyes found a narrow space between buildings. It was an area free of streetlights and away from the eye of cameras, meaning most people would avoid it at such a late hour. You looked around the wall to peek and sewer immediately surprised.   
You found some men dressed in cyan and white suits beating on some kids dressed in orange and black finery. They looked to be in their late teens or early twenties. One had black hair with his bangs parted into inverted triangles that fell on his forehead and cold eyes. The other had fiery orange hair and seemed rather short but dodged the cyan suits with stunning agility. You watched nonchalantly with no intentions of interfering. You simply wanted to observe these strange individuals and gauge the outcome.The orange suits were outnumbered about three to one but it seemed to bother them none. They fought valiantly but it seemed that they were not to win.  
They you saw the black haired one pull a metallic object from his belt loop. It’s glint caught your eye and you knew it was time to intervene. You stepped out into their field of vision.  
“Is this an alley gangbang? That doesn’t seem hygienic.” Heads immediately whirled around to face you at the sound of your voice. The blueberry looking fellow creased his brow.  
“What the fuck?”  
A cyan suit glared at you, you took in his hair. “Who are you?”  
“Not stupid enough to nearly start a gun fight here, Turnip Head.” You cocked your head to the side and gently placed down your groceries. With that out of the way and safe you approached the gangsters. The blueberry pulled out the gun and pointed it at you. You didn’t flinch but you were rather irked. To think this kid had the nerve to pull out a gun on you was utterly idiotic and you found it disrespectful to your skill. Not to mention you weren’t a real threat yet. This idiot of a kid could have just shot an innocent.  
You glared at the blueberry, “If you don’t put that fucking gun down, I will shove it up your ass.”  
The orange hair shorty next to him came to his partner’s defense almost instantly. “H-hey! Who are y-you to talk to Kageyama l-like that?” You sneered and looked at the orange kid with mild disdain.   
“I can’t believe they let wannabe punks like you into the underground.” You put a hand behind you and smacked yourself on the back of the head, suddenly coming to a strange realization. “Oh I got it!” You enthusiastically pointed to the the orange suited duo, “You guys are from the Karasuno group. Only they would hire idiots like you.” You then patted yourself on the back with a triumphant expression. “You’re such a genius, (Name).”  
Kageyama began to quake in rage, “How dare you talk about us like that. Mr. Daichi didn’t think we were idiots when he recruited us.” Your mocking attitude was quickly grating on his nerves and he was desperately fighting for control.  
In turn you were rather bored of the exchange, it was tiring having to scold punks like this and you had work to be done. “How about this? You kids scamper off to your holes and I won’t beat the shit out of you.” As soon as you finished talking you caught one of the cyan suited men swing.  
You pivoted and stepped to the side and put out a foot. Due to the attackers unbalanced stance he easily tripped over your feet and plummeted face first to the ground. Taking a booted foot you roughly stepped on the attacker’s back. You ground your foot into his spine with a placid expression. The man under you groaned and pleaded with you to stop as the others looked on with horror and shock. “This is why we behave and listen to what we’re told,” your voice was icy and slightly breathy.   
The shock evidently wore off as the rest of the cyan suited men lunged for you. The first one came in a blind rage. He led with a right hook that you blocked. Taking the bone side of your lower arm you shoved his arm away before placing a leg between his own and sweeping outward. The thug struck the ground with a sharp thud and gasp. Turnip head attempted to pull a sidekick to which you crouched down and sprung up with an uppercut directly to the chin.   
“Kindaichi!” Someone yelled. You took your time beating the thugs up and by the time you were done, the Karasuno boys had fled and around you were numerous incapacitated men. You languidly left the crook and picked up your groceries before being on your merry way.  
The fight had left your heart dim as you were reminded of the fact that you hadn’t had a real fight in years. The thrill had faded and now it seemed that beating on some teenagers was mundane and boring. You could find no joy in anything and the swallows of depression had taken hold. You avoided heavy conflict if you could due to the unwanted and repressed memories they brought forth but you did what you were best at to make a living. It was almost ironic considering your ideology as twisted as it was.   
You made it safely to your studio apartment without a problem, not that you expected them. Though the consequences of your actions did quickly flit around in your head, you brushed it off with a shrug. You had learned to accept whatever happened to you and you took punishment wholesomely.   
Taking out your key, you swiftly unlocked the door and went inside, your other hand covering a yawn. The sound of paws hitting the hardwood in rapid succession put you on instant alert. You tossed the groceries onto the nearby couch and crouched down. A small smile crossed your face as you held open arms to Doberman Pinscher that came barreling towards you. The dog was nearly as tall as you when standing, and only being a year old it might have even grown larger.   
You had refused to dock such a beautiful creature so you watched as her tail wagged with excitement and eyes lifted with joy. You took a hand and softly brushed the short fur on her head. “Hey there baby. How was your day?” You placed a gentle kiss upon her head and embraced her shortly before standing. “Just as cute as always, Scylla.”  
You walked over to the couch and patted a cushion. Obediently, Scylla jumped and landed on the cushion before snuggling up with a pillow. You plucked the plastic bag from beside her before walking to place it in the kitchen.   
You walked into your bedroom scanning it as you made your way to the closet. It appeared to be neat and untouched save for a little pet dander. You ached to check for cameras but paranoia was flaw you wanted to break. It was one thing to be cautious but you almost obsessively checked for bugs and other devices the could track for whereabouts. Hours were spent looking over your shoulder and scanning crowds for anyone that was eyeing you a bit too much.   
After confirming that there were no tracking devices you reached into the back of your closets. You passed the suits you never wore and moved them aside to see the plaster. You ran your fingers along the edges, searching a slight raise in the wall. Once you found it, you gently pulled it up with you fingertips, careful to not harm the thin material. Behind the secret compartment was a key pad. You were careful to clean it afterwards and press lightly, so someone could not guess the passcode using your fingerprints or worn in indentations in the plastic.   
Tapping the code lightly into the keypad, you watched as something clicked and a whirring sound commenced.   
You stepped out of the closet and walked to your wardrobe. After opening it you could see that the backboard of the wardrobe had become detached as it slid into the wall and then slid out of view. From this new opening in the wall, several shelves emerged and folded open in all available space. They all extended from the wardrobe and stretched out so far and so wide that you were almost pushed back five feet to nearly the edge of your bed. They held a commodity of all the items you could possibly need but couldn’t legally own. Your eyes glanced past handguns and pistols, clear through assault rifles and one out of place anti-cannon rifle.   
You reached towards the back and pulled out a chestpiece. It was thickly padded, even thicker than a bulletproof vest that one might wear as a police officer or member of the swat team. You gingerly strapped it on, taking time to to perfect the adjustments as well as check for tears in the padding. After a satisfactory inspection o placed a small caliber gun in any of the given holsters. Next strapping on a belt you added you choice of weapons, twirling a ballistic knife between your fingers. With a flas it was slipped into a hidden belt loop.   
With a nod of your head to resigned from the shelves of contraband weapons, most bought off Libyan black markets and other unsavory dealers. You had heard rumors of a large scale mob around these parts that was proficient in arms dealing but you had yet to check to see if such rumors hailed true.   
You once again approached and entered your closet. You quickly entered the same passcode and and turned your head and watched as the shelves receded back into the wall and the wardrobe shifted to its original status. You pulled on your customary black pants, durable and allowing for mobility with your military grade combat boots.You pulled down your black mouth mask, feeling like it was getting rather stuffy. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and ran a leather gloved hand through your hair and attempted to smile. It came out forced and was more of a grimace than anything. You sneered and flipped yourself off in a moment of indignant self-loathing.   
You phone went off, diverting your attention. With a click you saw the notification. A car had been parked outside the building setting off your alarms. The night vision was activated but you quickly switched it for a flash. It kept up the appearance of being a normal light affixed to the building but the bright LEDs made th image full of color and bright. You had installed nearly invisible cameras around the building's perimeter in order to keep a close eye on the coming and going of strangers. A man gingerly stepped out of the car, only to be tripped by another man rounding from the car’s other side. You noted that the both of them had been in the back seats, meaning they had been chauffeured and were of a higher position.   
You stared at the camera feed with a complete deadpan expression. “He’s beauty, he’s grace, he’s falling on his face.” A corner of your mouth lifted an imperceivable amount at the little rhyme you had come up with.   
Your mild amusement was quickly interrupted as an offended voice called out, “Iwa-chan! You’re so mean. Why did you trip me?” You gaed at who spoke. He was rather with nice chestnut brown hair that was stylishly parted and had a tousled look. He wore an impeccable gray suit and a cyan cravat in his breast pocket jumped at you. You looked to the man who had tripped him. He was shorter but had a much broader build and spiked up hair.  
The one with the dark spiky hair simply scoffed and answered, “Cause you were acting like some kind of pompous dick, Oikawa.” You narrowed your eyes. So Oikawa is is his name, it seems oddly familiar. I just don’t know where from, though. The thought honestly bothered you. You were an observant person who could a name to a face in second, but at the moment you had drawn a complete blank.   
You shook your head and assured yourself, “I’m just getting rusty.” Unexpectedly, your intercom went off. It was the rough voice of ‘Iwa-chan’.  
“It’s the Seijou Group, we’re your escorts.” You blinked swiftly, to draw your attention away from your thoughts.You looked back at the video feed before turning off the flash and reverting your vision to shades of monotone grays, greens, and blacks. You slipped your phone into a pocket and walked out of your apartment with a small wave to Scylla and an order for her to behave. As soon as you closed your door and locked it, a neighbor of your apartment building crossed paths with you. You were wondering why they would be up at such a late hour, it had to be midnight by now. Yet, they simply passed you without even acknowledging you. His name was Tsukishima Kei, if your research had been correct. He was a tall blond with an attitude who worked full time at some tech company you didn’t care to remember the name of. All in all, the young man appeared otherwise mundane and boring. He added to your cover almost like a puzzle piece and this pleased you.   
You waited a moment until the door at the bottom of the staircase to exit the building had be open and then closed in quick succession. You then made your own way down the short staircase and stepped into the cold air. It immediately nipped at the tips of your ears even as you paid no mind to it. With a glance you spotted ‘Iwa-chan’ stationed near the mailboxes which were located next to the intercoms for each apartment. You didn’t ask how they knew which one was yours. The were the mob and had just as much and if not even more information to people than you. You were doubtful though, you pride called for it. You pulled your face mask back up and watched as your previously visible breath faded away in the cold air.   
You approached silently, so silent not even a mice could detect you. So when ‘Iwa-chan’ whipped his head to you as soon as you were in ten feet of him, it was an understatement to say you were shocked. You quirked an eyebrow. Even as you could barely see his face in the dark. Without any street lights around, you had to suffer through the blindness of only seeing the outlines of people. Even so, your eyesight was good if not great, so this did not bother you as much as it would have when you were younger and more concerned for your health.  
You held up and hand in greeting and addressed the mafia member nonchalantly, “Salutations.” You didn’t leave out the underlying taunt in your voice. You had a certain power to provoke others just with words salone. It had caused the result of a lot of beatings and harassment from outranking soldiers during your basic training.   
The mafia member looked you up and down with extreme prejudice, although you couldn’t see it in his eyes. “So you’re that prick Oikawa hired to do your dirty business.”  
“Yes, that would be me, Iwa-chan.”   
He huffed and you suppress a slight smirk, “It’s Iwaizumi.”  
“You can call me daddy, cause I’m going to teach you how a real man throw snark.”  
“Hey there. I’m into kinky shit like that.”  
It seemed that the both of you had the same thought on your mind as in unison you both pulled guns. In an instant the both of you had dangerous frowns and aimed at each other, in the precisely right trajectory to end the other’s life with a swift bullet to the brain.


	3. In Which You Kick a Mad-Dog and Plan a Raid

You shook your head and smiled at Iwaizumi, giving a nod of acknowledge to his gun. “Aww, that’s real cute, Iwa-chan,” you teased, voice rising a bit at the end in a clear imitation of Oikawa.

You watched as Iwaizumi tensed slightly and his grip on his gun tightened. He sneered, “Don’t ever call me that if you value your life.”

“Oh dear, but wouldn’t killing the hitman be counteractive?” You faked concern and adopted a lilt to your voice that dripped with a poisonous sweetness. With your free hand you laid a palm on your cheek and tilted your head to the side as you sighed.

“Huh. So you’re him. I almost thought it was that string bean who walked out a few minutes ago.”

“Well, now that we have our roles established do you wanna quit dicking around and put your squirt gun away, tyke?”

“Why do get a feeling that Oikawa will soon want to kill you more than Ushijima?” He questioned but nonetheless holstered his gun as he flipped the safety. After a second’s hesitation you hastily did that same. 

You shrugged and approached the man, his form still tense. That’s when you noticed that you had to be at least a head taller than him, if not more. As you fought a smirk you had to bite your lip to avoid spitting a biting remark. You simply redirected your amusement and shrugged, “I tend to have that effect on people.” 

Not bothering to ask permission from Iwaizumi you slipped past him and came upon the car. It was a luxury sports car, with a quick glance at the rear bumper, you saw with no surprise that it was a BMW i8. You whistled as you took hold of the handle. “Nice ride you got here, “ you complimented as you opened the door and slid inside the car soundlessly.   
Your sudden entrance scared both the driver, another tall male with strawberry hair, and Oikawa himself. He drew in a quiet breath and whipped his head to you. Your eyes met and his eyebrows shot up. Always with an unfiltered mouth he burst out, “Jesus, you’re cute for a killer.”

You rolled your eyes as Iwaizumi slammed the door shut as he dropped beside you. The driver winced, “Can you not slam my doors, mate?” He shut up as soon as Iwaizumi threw him a rather nasty glare. “Nevermind then, but remember you’ll be the one to fucking pay for them if anything happens.” He turned to Oikawa and asked, “To the base, Boss?”  
Oikawa gave a stern nod, his eyes never leaving mine, “Yeah, Hanamaki.” Hanamaki nodded and started the car before making a sharp pull out and speeding off. From your pocket you pulled a carton of cigarettes along with a lighter, oikawa raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. You proceeded to light it and then took a long draw. Pulling back you blew the smoke through your nose with a content breath. “You shouldn’t smoke.”

You immediately felt defensive and narrowed your eyes, “Yeah and maybe you shouldn't make a living doing shady shit.” You then made an effort to take an extra long drag before blowing it into Oikawa’s face. As soon as the smoke hit his face, both Hanamaki and Iwaizumi had pulled their guns at you. You smirked but noticed that Hanamaki was still steering with his free hand and hadn’t even glanced at you as he pulled the gun. Not once. Not even through the rear view mirror. It surprised you to say the least. Why couldn’t they have guys like this when you were in the military?

“Wow, I’m shocked. These are some skilled men you have here. Where’d you find them?” You rolled down a window and flicked ash into the night air. You watched the embers in the end of your cigarette flare at the sudden change of temperature. You suddenly felt cramped as a tension seemed to creep over everyone. You didn’t see the problem. It was just a fucking question. 

“I didn’t find them, they found me.” Oikawa’ voice had become low and he spoke with a dangerous underlying meaning to his words. Since it wasn’t your business and you had a feeling you’d be shot if you said something else, you accepted his words with a nod.

“Fair enough.” The tension didn’t dissipate entirely but it was enough for Oikawa to signal his men to holster their weapons. You tilted your head and brought the cancer stick to your lips, “So who do you want me to take out?”

“I don’t want you to take out anyone.”

“Then why’d you call me? You even asked me to be prepared to kill.”

“I don't intend you to kill anyone, but I asked you to be prepared for it in case something happened.”

“You still didn’t tell me what the fuck I’m doing here in the back seat with tight ass over here,“ You threw a lazy gesture with a jutt of your thumb at Iwaizumi, who scowled.  
Oikawa and Hanamaki stifled laughter before Oikawa sobered up as Iwaizumi called him out. “Stop laughing, Shittykawa!”

“I can’t help, Iwa-chan. He’s just so funny.” Oikawa then turned to look at you, his face serious and eyes calculating. “You’ll find out your mission soon enough, Mr. (L/N).”  
Iwaizumi looked at you patronisingly, “So, its (L/N), huh? Interesting.”

“Don’t wear it out, “You commented as you flicked the stub of the cigarette out the window and rolled the pane back up.

You almost dived out the car, you legs had began to hurt and your heart had been racing from the claustrophobia. It had reminded you of memories you just couldn't seem to not dwell over. You stretched and let the weight of your gear settle on your shoulders and tension drained from your muscles. Being surrounded by that many armed men had you weary and agonizingly alert. Your body just couldn't seem to calm down no matter how much you wanted it to.

You looked at the warehouse for a bit. It was simple solid metal structure in the industrial district. It was too obvious to be their actual base, it was a cliche out of some B-rated Godfather remake. Nevertheless, you did not ask about it, deciding you had antagonized them enough for on night. The large door opened, sliding along the cement with a slight screech. You winced a bit at the high sound, but otherwise watched a a group of men in white and cyan suits approached you all. 

It reminded you of the incident in the alley that had just occurred a few hours ago. Then it all clicked, it must have been members of the Seijou and Karasuno groups fighting. You made a metal note to tell Oikawa of it later, but for now you justed wanted your objective to become clear. If you weren’t to kill then for what purpose did they hire you?  
You went over to stand next to Iwaizumi as the men had come within five feet of you. You lifted your chin in an act of apparent superiority. You kept a hostile look in your eye. You weren’t about to allow some low level thugs to talk to you casually. 

Then you eyes caught a mass of dark hair that rose to come to a familiar peak. As your eyes caught his, he blushed and looked away. You kept your stare for a minute before diverting your attention. That was Kindaichi, the turnip kid form the alleyway. You could tell Oikawa about how stupid his men were later.   
“Well, I can see that you brought out the whole choir for my mass for my arrival. What’s next, Father Oikawa, a testimony for my sins for killing?” No humor could be found in your voice, just a chilling serenity that sent the men into a frenzy.

“Hey you can’t just talk to the boss like that!”

“Fuck you! Who do you think you are?”

“I swear I’ll shoot your ass.”

All kinds of insults and threats were thrown at you from the mob. You rolled your eyes and cracked you knuckles as suddenly one of the men lurched forward to grab you by your collar. You instantly tensed and a hand snapped out to place a hook on the guy’s face. Just as you did, he was pulled back by none other than Kindaichi. “Don’t try and fight him, Yahaba-senpai.” His eyes landed on your form once again as a coil in your stomach tightened in anticipation. “He’s too much for you to handle, trust me.”

“Nah, he’s just some cheap gun for hire that probably gets laid out on his ass if he can’t kill em with a gun.” Your head snapped to meet the new rough voice. He had darkly lined eyes and a shaved head, an artificial blonde with brown racing stripes on the side. 

You snorted, “Your the only guy I’ve seen here that looks like he’s in a gang. I wouldn’t talk if I were you.”

The guy you had antagonized growled and lunged just as Yahaba yelled, “Kyoutani, no!”

Letting the male fall onto you, you plummeted and hit the ground. Kyoutani raised a fist to pummel you just as you brought your arms to under you and pushed up with exonerated force. He was rolled back and you brought your legs to your chest as he looked down at you with both a puzzled and angered expression. You gave a little wave and dazzling smile just as you heavily booted feet struck his abdomen. You could immediately hear the air escape him and his eyes bulged and you pushed up. He flew and hit the ground hard as you used your previous velocity to launch yourself onto your feet with the help of your hands also pushing off the cement. 

Once you found yourself in a stabilized position you stood and planted a foot on the offender. Crushing his skull into the ground, your inner sadist seemed to cover you like a thine sheen.You let out a cackle and taunted, “Who’s on their ass now?” You moved to place more pressure on the skull of a groaning Kyoutani when two people caught you by your torso and pulled you away. You looked back and saw none other than Iwaizumi and the big boss himself.

Oikawa pushed you against the hood of the car as you looked on at him is mild amusement and fascination. He gritted his teeth and had a fiery look in his chocolate eyes. “I don’t care if you’re some big shit, don’t forget that at the moment you’re on my payroll. Hurt another of my men and you will pay for it.”

The sadistic glint entered your eyes once more, “Are we counting that Kindaichi kid from earlier?” Oikawa slipped into confusion and furrowed his brows.  
“What are you talking about?” He queried.   
“Oh, he didn’t tell you? I found him and some of your men beating on a couple of Karasuno boys. A black haired guy from Karasuno pulled out a gun while I was watching them so I had no choice but to interfere. I didn’t realize that the mafia employed idiots but guess I was wrong there.”

Iwaizumi who observed this go down with a blank expression turned to address Kindaichi. “Is this true?”

The turnip head blushed slightly and then hesitantly nodded, before hiding his face from embarrassment. “Yes, sir. In my defense, he took Kunimi out like it was nothing.”  
Iwaizumi seemed to accept his answer as he huffed in agreement before he curtly added, “We will still talk about this lately.”  
You looked at Oikawa boredly and remarked, “Hey, now. This all fine and dandy but you’re cutting off circulation in my wrist.” Oikawa narrowed his eyes before backing off as you straightened yourself and rubbed around your wrist. You gave Oikawa an exaggerated pout as he glared on at you. The mischief from your eyes disappeared as you caught a glance at Kyoutani. He sat on a nearby shipping crate as Yahaba picked out small pieces of pebbles from his red and scratched face. The overhead lights of the warehouse seemed to loom over him as they beckoned you to apologize. 

You approached him, brushing off Oikawa as he made an attempt to grab you again. You kneeled in front of him. He jumped a bit and then glared down at you with a snarl. He opened his mouth to speak, namely throw some rather rude names around but you stopped him before he could get even a syllable out. 

“Uh, I’m sorry for...like...kicking you in the stomach and then grinding...uh, you face into the ground.” You rubbed a hand on the back of your head and looked sheepish, “That was totally by bad.”

Yahaba immediately began to choke on his laughter as soon everyone, save you and Kyoutani, also began to laugh almost hysterically. Iwaizumi sobered up fairly quick as he wiped a small tear from the corner of his eyes. “Oh, Jesus my stomach hurts. But I have to admit that was hilarious, I’ve never heard anyone apologize to Kyoutani, much less when he was the one that implicated the fight.”

Kyoutani growled as he yelled, “Shut up.” You raised an eyebrow at the kid, he reminded you of an angry dog.  
“That’s a lot of externalized rage you got there. No wonder you attacked me so quickly. I’m not judging, I mean it's gotta be channeled somewhere, am I right?” You didn’t give a chance to put in his two cents as you swiftly rose and strolled briskly to Oikawa. Your coiuntenance was now serious and your mouth was pursed into a line that curved downwards slightly. “Now, I think I’ve waited long enough. I want to know why I’m here when you seem to not want to kill.” 

The inside of the warehouse was just as cold as it was outside, but at least you couldn’t see your breath anymore, so it had to be an improvement of some sort. You sat crossed legged on a wooden crate as Iwaizumi stood next to Oikawa, who sat up straight directly in front of you. The atmosphere was all business, a sharp turn from your normally joking mannerisms. 

“As you know, Seijou and Shiratorizawa have been battling over territory rights for the past decades, well before I became the new head of Seijou. I am also going to assume that you are acquainted with the name, Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s some tall self-absorbed prick, right? All cocky just cause he’s finally rolling with the big dogs.”

Iwaizumi nods and Oikawa hums in a shared agreement, “Yeah, something like that. Well, the problem is that Shiratorizawa has been pressing their borders too close to our and even attempted to deal and trade in areas of our previous designation. It’s clear disrespect and it needs to stop.

This is where you come in. I want you to take a couple of my men and give the main Shiratorizawa group a good scare. Any violence might unintentionally start a war and I want to avoid that at any cost. I need you to do it, because no one else has a reputation like you do and you can’t be tracked. I’ve tried. No birth records, no fingerprints, not even a credit card. As far as I’m convinced, you don’t even fucking exist.” 

You chuckle a bit and add in, “It’s detrimental that I don’t have a past. A past means guilt and a conscience, both of which I have no liberty to have.”  
Oikawa looks a bit stunned at this revelation and a sneak peak into your ever elusive thought process. Then he continued, a little stronger and apparently more confident. “I want you and my men to deliver a letter written by me to Ushiwaka, under no circumstances are my men to engage into an altercation of any kind. I will have several cars waiting for you after your mission is complete. One of my most trusted, Yahaba will be there to monitor the actions of all involved. He will then notify me of the missions success and the money with automatically be wired into your bank account.”

You rolled the plan over for potential loopholes in your head. “You said that your men were to not engage. Am I part of this collection? If so, I’m afraid I cannot promise such a thing.”

Oikawa sighed, “I understand that something may happen and I regret to say that I believe you are the only one capable of dealing with such a situation and coming out unscathed. My men, not so much.”

“I do have one request though.”

“What would that be?” Oikawa raised an eyebrow and Iwaizumi leaned back a bit, evidently intrigued.   
“I want to take Kyoutani and Kindaichi with me.”

Iwaizumi stared at you with wide eyes and Oikawa scrutinized the possibilities, none of which pleasant, but figured you’d keep them on a leash. At last after a long moment of silence, he feebly nodded.


	4. In Which You Compare Dick Sizes and Piss Off the Mafia

Kyoutani’s back was taunt. He was alert and his pulse was spiked, he gazed around the lavish lawn with a certain kind of anticipation that came o one who had been ambush before. Every noise raised the hairs on his arms and Yahaba’s breathing in his ear sent shivers up his spine. He looked to you and glared. Who was this strange man in black who had suddenly threatened the elite Seijou mafia and then employ their assistance. He had yet to understand why Oikawa had felt the need for such a disrespectful man.

Yahaba switched his gaze between you and Kyoutani in a sort of game of ping pong. He watched as you steadily breathed and ran a hand through your locks. You caught Yahaba’s stare and sent him a curt nod. Yahaba looked away, embarrassed at being caught staring, and turned his attention back to the luxurious mansion in which they surrounded. He did not understand why you had not yet signaled them to move in, but he did not question it. 

The sprawling grounds were meticulously manicured, like some British debutant’s dream garden. With perfectly sculpted hedges and a fountain that sat in the middle of a cobblestone paved wrap around driveway, Yahaba saw where Shiratorizawa put their money. 

The house itself was another spectacle by itself. With Greek columns and and clean cut stone walls, it was the most beautiful fortress one might ever see. Sparsely placed windows, were overshadowed by translucent stained glass displays that put the best cathedrals to shame. Depicting scenes from the bible and other historical and sacred texts, this felt more like a holy ground than the operations headquarters of a bunch of criminals. Distinguished and rich criminals, at that.

So as you stared on that the glorious sight, Yahaba was confused. What he did not know was that this house reminded you of your childhood. Or rather, the future you dreamed of as a child. With a blink, you turned your gaze skyward. The stars gleamed brightly in the clear atmosphere which sat clean of pollution and artificial light. Orion’s belt was reflected in your eyes, along with a distinct longing. It was the first emotion Yahaba had seen you display since coming in contact with you. You were even harder to read than Oikawa, and reading someone was what Yahaba was trained to do. He could not grasp at your past or your future for that matter.

“You won’t figure me out, Sherlock.” The sound of your rough baritone voice startled Yahaba. You had just read him, or maybe he had just been too obvious with this thoughts. It must’ve been the furrow of his brows and the way he gently traced over your features. 

“And how can you assume that, Mr. (L/N)?”

“I carry no name with me but the ones I have taken.” The words struck Yahaba like ice. They seemed so simple, but they had a undertone to them that Yahaba found unsettling. 

Just as yahaba went to say something, the front door the mansion opened. The wood creakled but only slightly, ye it was enough to make nearly everyone on the premises jump. You turned to meet the gaze of whoever was the on the other side of the door. Your eyes first noted the asymmetrical bangs and then the lilac eyes. He wore a neatly tailored suit, it was obviously expensive as you could tell from the cut. The person was a young male, he seemed about Yahaba’s age. Although his build was a bit larger and his gaze was more piercing than Yahaba’s.

The man opened the door wider and stepped to the side. As he did this your men moved in towards you just as men spilled out from the mansion. You were quickly outnumbered by the Shiratorizawa men. This did nothing to soothe Yahaba’s anxiety but seeing your nonchalant expression he was slightly reassured. That feeling, however was short lived as the Shiratorizawa men swiftly pulled guns. You raised your hands and cocked your head. It was a sign of surrender, but the smirk on your face said otherwise.

“Such a great welcome we have here. Isn’t that right, men?” The snark in your voice uplifted the men enough that they replied to you with vigor. Shouts of agreement followed just as you spoke once more, “I going to throw a bone here and say that you’re Shiratorizawa best men? Or am I wrong?” With a shrug you dropped your hands and rested them on your hips. 

“You are with Seijou, are you not? Nevermind, I don’t really give a hit. You have two fucking seconds before my men light you up.” The angry blond’s lilac eyes flashed in anger.

“Oh dear, I’m practically quaking in my boots. You’re such a scary insubordinate.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m with the Seijou, as you said just a second ago, and I’m here to speak to the one you call Ushiwaka.”

“The boss would rather suck his own dick then speak to you lowlives.”

With an easy stride and a devilish smirk you came to the front lines of the Shiratorizawa men. “That can be arranged and all we need is that big man himself.”

“I’m already here,” the voice was even deeper than your own and completely monotonous. You whistled appreciatively as a tall and broad built man pushed the blond out the way and stared down at you. There was not many people who were taller than you in Japan, but this man easily was. His olive hair was shortly cut and his eyes were of the same shade. They were sharp and his face was slack. “What does Seijou want with us? If Oikawa wants to speak he should have just come here instead of sending expendable extras.”

You faked a look of offense as Kyoutani growled in retaliation, “Your words cut me, Ushiwaka.” Your gaping expression transformed into one of belligerent hostility. “Oikawa sent me to tell you that your about to cross a real thin fucking line buddy. It’s either you pull back from Seijou territory or I get to gladly shove a bullet up your pompous ass. I personally lean towards violence but you know Oikawa, diplomacy and all that shit.”

The man standing at attention with their guns drawn, step forward so close that one of them push against you. You raise an eyebrow, taking a finger and pressing the man back. He stumbles, apparently startled by the contact. 

“We will not agree to these terms, if Oikawa has a problem he will bring it to me directly. I refuse to negotiate with the weak.”

You let a hysterical laugh, a touch of mania in your eyes. “Fan-fucking-tastic. I can’t believe some kind of dick puller like you is in charge of the largest crime syndicate in Japan.” You licked your lips and a hungry look glazed over your eye. This sudden change in personality felt familiar to the Seijou men but made the Shiratorizawa men shake.They had never dealt with some so prideful and confident that had but twenty men standing behind him. You were a complete enigma and this began to catch the intrigue of Ushiwaka and the man with the lilac eyes, Shirabu. 

You grinned manically and wide eyes met with Ushiwaka’s narrowed ones. “I can’t wait cut that blunt tongue from out your mouth. It’ll be such a delight to see your blood spill as your empire crumbles to the ground. I’ll even let you watch as I burn this mansion to the ground.”

Ushiwaka shook his head, “Say what you want. But before you must leave, may I have the name of the man who promises to kill me?”

Shirabu and all in attendance of the scene looked at the crime boss in pure and unadulterated shock. “Mr. Ushijima, you can’t be seri-”

“Not that it means much, but my name is (Y/N) (L/N).” 

Ushijima yelled out commands for his men to file back into the house and return to their previous positions. They reluctantly did as they were ordered. Ushijima then waved Shirabu to leave, his eyes glancing back at you once more before he left. 

“I see. Then may we meet again, (Y/N). Oh, and do tell Oikawa that if I find his bitches on my lawn again then I’ll have them all publicly executed. 

 

Iwaizumi was wildly incredulous, for good reason too. To think that a mere gun for hire had the balls to blatantly insult a powerful crime boss like Ushijima, the idea was completely beyond him. Yet as he listened to your debriefing he had no choice to take your word as Yahaba and Kyoutani nodded in agreement as you spoke.   
“So, you’re telling me that you just waltzed up to the Ushijima Wakatoshi and basically told him to suck a dick?”

“Well I mean it doesn’t strictly have to be mine. It could be yours if you’d like, although I’m sure it can’t compare to mine.”

Oikawa pinched the bridge of your nose as you and iwaizumi continued to bicker back and forth like children. “Hey, when you two are done comparing the size of your penises can we actually talk about business?”

Iwaizumi quickly shut up and you turned your attention to Oikawa, a sardonic smile plastered upon your countenance. “Sure, what about business?”

“I want to know what Ushiwaka told you. Is he going to push back or not?”

You shook your head, almost solemn for a moment, yet only a moment as it disappeared from your face almost as fast as the expression came. “No, he told me that he wasn’t going to agree to your terms unless you personally met with him. I think he’s planning something, especially since he even went so far as to threaten execution. I mean it's either that, “ you shrugged, “or he was just pissed that we interrupted his daily jack off.”

Oikawa was practically seething. His teeth were gritted and with a shaky hand he waved you and the meetings attendees out of the room. “Fuck!” he slammed a fist on the table. “Who does that bastard think he is?”

Before closing the door behind you you spared a final glance at Oikawa. “If it means anything to you, I’m prepared to shoot someone. All you have to do is say the word.”  
Oikawa’s voice was soft, soft enough that you had to strain to catch his final words. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, (Y/N), I really do.”

Around the table sat a collection of refined individuals. A the head of the table sat Ushijima. To his left Shirabu Kenjirou, to his right, a flame headed, lanky man, Tendou Satori. The remaining seats were filled with the other important figures of Shiratorizawa. 

No words were exchanged as the men contemplated in silence. Then a voice broke the silence, coming from a young man with black bowl cut. “What if we do what they did to us. Send our men to them and tell them that we will be further collecting their territory. We need the expansion room.”

Shirabu sniffed indignantly, “That might be the best idea you have come up with as of yet, but see that wouldn’t work out.” 

Ushijima agreed, which came a shock to most in attendance. “That man, the one from Seijou, he was not normal. His eyes were different. He had the eyes of a man who was not afraid to tear down an empire. Something tells me that he may just have the means to do it too. Plus we have more pressing matters.”

A white haired man pulled out a manila folder and promptly began to read from it, “According to our newest intel, Karasuno is on the rise. They have promising new recruits. Including some boy called “the KIng”. We do not know what this is in reference to but we will certainly find out, Mr. Ushijima.”

“Thank you, Semi. Anything else?”

“No sir, just as usual Seijou maintains good momentum and the Tokyo factions are well and thriving.”  
Shirabu couldn’t bite his thoughts back any more. “I’m still concerned about that man, (Y/N) (L/N). he is an obvious threat, so why don’t we just take him out before something bad happens and we all end up in deep shit.”

“A logical but stupid approach, he will be expecting this. Even from the window I could see this was a man that would see through our plans in mere seconds. Nothing slips pasts from him, yet according to my calculations, he will make the first move.”

Ushijima laughed dryly as the meeting came to a close, “I can’t wait to see what kind of ruse he pulls next. Such an intriguing gun for hire. He is certainly not like the rest and I intend to find out what makes him so different.”


	5. In Which You Drink Tea and Insult Some Fruit Boys

The following days had passes slowly. You swam through a lethargic existence, watching as people went through there day to day lives from a distant perspective. With money wired into your bank account and a somewhat happy Oikawa, you somehow didn’t feel satisfied. The whole affair left you curious and unsettled. 

What would Ushijima next move be and when would Oikawa give up on the pacifist mindset? It’d get him killed one day, you thought. You carried this question as you stepped out of your apartment for a smoke. 

The sun sat high in the eastern sky. The heat in the air wasn’t sweltering but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. The humidity helped this fact. You rolled up the sleeves of your shirt, suddenly regretting the baggy cargo pants and long sleeve shirt. The gravel beneath your feet crunched as you stepped out into the space between buildings. It wasn’t an alley, the space was much too large for that. It was hard to describe. At best it could be referred to simply as a space outside the side of the apartment complex. 

You let the door swing behind you as you stepped outside, waiting for the sounds of it hitting the door frame. It never happened and as you began to breathe in the intoxicating smoke, a voice spoke. 

A voice in equal measures annoying and alluring. “Nice to see that you’re actually still alive.” You turn to blankly look a Tsukishima. His yellow hair disheveled yet glasses straight on his narrow face. That ever present smirk patronizes your reclusive tendencies. Not that you really mind any. 

You roll your eyes and continue to enjoy your smoke, ignoring the man that you consider a pest. This constant prodding got on your nerves, and his offhand remarks certainly did nothing to help his case. 

Tsukishima pushes forward into your frontal view, his expression irked at you ignoring him. You raise an eyebrow as you release some smoke. Tsukishima grimaces, “If you keep smoking like that then soon you'll smell only of tobacco.”

You shrug, “I mean if it’ll keep you away then I’m fine with it. Not like quitting is all that easy anyway.” 

“About as easy as staying out of trouble with the local runts? You sure did save those kid’s asses, didn’t you?”

You tense, only slightly, and keep your tone even, “What are you going on about, Tsukishima?” You know exactly what he’s talking about. Those Karasuno kids you ‘saved’ the other day. You could have sworn that no one else was there when it happened. 

Tsukishima tilts his head back and laughs lightly. He expression becomes malevolent as his eyes find yours once again. Your eyes betray nothing but a perpetual boredom. This however,, does nothing to offset Tsukishima, who presses on. 

“Oh, you know, the tangerine and blueberry from that alleyway. Who would have thought that you could take a person down with such minimal movement? I just hope that Seijou wasn’t angry about you roughing up some of their mates.”

You stare at Tsukishima with that same bored expression on your face, a far cry from the plethora of emotions you showcase while on the job. What can you say? Your job really brought your out of your shell. “I’d be appreciative if you could stop spouting bullshit and let me finish my smoke.”

“You must think you’re real smart, playing the idiot right now. But don’t worry. I know what you’ve been up to.”

You flick your cigarette on the ground and in a calm voice state, “Oh boy. My personal stalker is saying that I mugged some fruits, isn’t that just swell?” You drop your voice in an instant, looking up to meet Tsukishima’s golden irises. “I just want my stalker to know that he should really watch what he says and where he puts his nose. One wrong move and he could lose his head.” 

For the first time, you seemed to have shocked Tsukishima. Evident in the way he suddenly steps back and regards you with malice. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

You shrug before turning to go back into the building, you shoulder brushing against Tsukishima as you move past him. “That’s up for you to decide.”

Once back inside the cool comfort of your room, you let your nonchalant facade fall. You expression becomes mildly irritated and even a little amused. Irritated at the biting paranoia that begins to edge in from the corners of your mind and amused with the whole exchange with Tsukishima. Did that boy really think he could scare you with little words? What did it matter to you if he knew of your whereabouts? It wasn’t like you went out of your way to hide yourself. Yet as you think this, you wonder about what’ll happen next.

You pushed the thoughts back as they began to wear on your mood. The last thing you needed was to accidently lash out at someone today. It could be disastrous. You resigned yourself to one of your last joys in this world. Tea. And the best place to get it was the Crow’s Coven, an unpopular cafe just a few block from your apartment.

You really couldn’t understand why they didn’t get more recognition. I mean they served the best earl gray tea in Japan. Although, even considering this you couldn't complain, you enjoyed the privacy and silence that the place brought. It was the place where you went to clear your head and gather your thoughts after a rather taxing mission. If you had any say then you thought that this last mission was especially exhausting. This was all that crossed your mind as you stepped through the door. A little bell ringing as it heralded your entrance. The barista smiled, his smile pushing up his freckles. You spared him a simple nod as you approached the counter.

“Hello, Yamaguchi. You seem as chipper as always.”

“I guess so. Am I getting you the usual, Mr. (L/N)?” Yamaguchi didn’t wait for your answer as he grabbed the tea bags and placed them in a kettle to steep. You pulled out a ten and slid it over the counter. Yamaguchi took it, scrutinizing the bill as he turned it over. “I always find it so strange that you pay with American cash. It makes it easy to point you out as a foreigner.”

You shrug and humor Yamaguchi with a slight lift of the corner of your mouth, “I always thought it was easier to estimate and count then yen.” The door to the cafe slams open, banging against the glass panes with a tremendous force. You watch Yamaguchi wince as his eyes cath the new arrivals. You turn around deliberately slow, a scowl prominent on your face. One look at that and the noisy customers should scurry away, leaving you in your well deserved peace. 

You nearly choke as you study the orange haired male, still in that suit, and his much taller counterpart. Oh shit, those were the kids from the alleyway a few nights ago. They stand in the doorway of the cafe bickering about something. “Oh, come one , Kageyama, Mr. Daichi said that we shouldn’t worry about it. He already contacted Oikawa and stuff.” 

“I don’t care, Hinata. It didn't feel right that he was so calm about the whole affair. He had to recognize us.” Kageyama's eyes scanned the counter before resting on your form. He blinked rapidly as your scowl deepend. 

Yamaguchi started to intervene, after all he wasn’t keen to have his cafe destroyed today, “Uhmr. (L/N), I think you should leave. I don’t mean to be rude but they aren-”

“I understand that Yamaguchi but they are too loud for my tastes I came here for peace and I’ll be damned if I don’t get it.” It seemed that even after all this time, the world was still going to try your extremely limited patience. You slowly stood up, pushing you stool under the bar and grabbing your tea. You sauntered up to Kageyama and Hinata.

“Hinata, you fucking dumbass! Don’t talk so freely about business when there’ a civilian around. We’ll have to take care of him now.”

“Wait,” Hinata visibly paled as he stared at your face. It was as expressionless yet somehow laced with amusement as that night. He could not forget it, you're haunting eyes and beautiful movements. You moved with a rough grace of a man who had trained for years. “Isn’t that the guy from our scuffle with Seijou? Tell me it’s not him, please tell me it's not him, Kageyama.”

“Hey, dumbass?” Kageyama glared at you as he spoke to Hinata. You could do nothing but slowly advance with your tea. You took before Kageyama, looking down at him with a single quirked brow as your eye twitched in irritation. 

“Yeah, kageyama?” Hinata was already visibly shaking, his amygdala processing the fear as it passed over him in waves. You didn't look dangerous, clad in sweatpant holding a cup of tea. Yet something in your eyes, a malevolence that seemed to lurk, offset Hinata and called him to the bone. He felt paralyzed, unable to either move or think as you peered down at his partner. You made no move to do anything, instead you just stood there as if it were you who were made of wood. 

“Its him.”

“I was afraid that you would say that.” You stepped back, having felt that you scared the two boys enough. You returned to the bar without another word. 

“I don’t know what either of you are talking about, i don’t know you two. And unless you want to get to know me, I advise you get out of this cafe as quick as you came in.” It took them no other warnings before they scurried off.

You did catch a few of Hinata’s fleeting words as the door once again slammed shut, as if it were thankful they were gone. “We have to tell Mr. Daichi about this, Kageyama.” You assumed that this Mr. Daichi had to be the infamous boss of the crows. You felt your heart rate spike up, your breathing become shallow as a barrage of thoughts invaded your head.

If they recognized you today than they could certainly do it another day. You already had Shiratorizawa out for you could you deal with another? You were almost certain that Hinata and kageyama had been talking about you earlier too, I mean what other random men roughed them up in strange alleys? You’d have to move again, just when you thought that you had found a secure place. 

You searched desperately to steady your breathing. Your eyes flicked to Yamaguchi, who cleaned glasses behind the bar. He was careful to not look up, careful to not see you. Something told him that you were even more dangerous. Like a cornered dog ready to bite. He knew better and you appreciated that. You slammed the cup of tea on the table, completely shattering it as you stormed out of the homey establishment.

 

The bedhead and his owlish sparring partner weren’t sure how much more the punching bag could take. They watched as you pummeled it into oblivion, their own fight long forgotten. They were drawn in by your impressive physique and placid feature. You weren’t overly ripped and you didn’t have that pissed off look that every other man at the gym had. It was like that was their default expression, it was horrifying and momentous turn off if they were being honest.

Yet you hit the bag with so much force that they could see the seams tearing, although it was hidden from your view. “Jesus, Kuroo, look at him go!”

“I know, Bokuto, imagine being able to have that kind of strength and endurance without looking like a gorilla.” Almost as if could hear someone talking about you, your head snapped up to them just as the bag completely spit. Sand quickly began to pile at your feet, but you didn’t seem to care. 

Your eyes were full of flames and ice, a paradox of illusion and danger. A gym employee waddled hurriedly over to you to clean up the mess. Sparring them an apology and a nod, you walked away. Kuroo and Bokuto could only stare as you made your way towards them. Had you heard them talking about you? Were you insulted?

You slipped in between the ropes and you entered the ring. You walked with a natural swagger, that had Bokuto wondering just who you were. Kuroo, on the other hand, was just trying to figure out what you wanted from them. 

Kuroo raised an eyebrow as he quickly looked you up and down, “What brings you to this part of the gym, stanger?”

Your next words, out rather your request, came as a shock to the both of them. “I saw the two of you sparring. I want you both to fight me. At the same time.”


	6. In Which You Box An Owl And A Cat And Turn A Man Into A Pancake

“Ehhhh?” Bokuto drew the word out in an almost comical manner while Kuroo simply pursed his lips as he stared you up and down. Your build was lighter that Bokuto’s weightlifter physique but he knew not to underestimate someone. Years of pain and beatings had taught him that. He only wondered if you knew not to overestimate yourself. Bokuto put his hands out and shook them in manner that you would do to someone who has misunderstood a situation. “Sorry, sir. I’m always one for a good fight but I don’t think you should fight the both of us. We really don’t know our own strength.”

 

“If I didn’t know that the two of you don’t hold back then I wouldn’t have asked. Do I look stupid to you?” Your face adorned a well fitting sneer but your tone was far more condescending. You had your arms crossed in front of you and every single one of your pores seemed to buzz with energy. 

 

Kuroo decided that this was his time to step in before you said something that would mortally wound Bokuto’s ego. An insult from an attractive man would do that to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder. You stiffened but did not move, Kuroo observed. Your eyes flared with an unknown emotion for a second before they returned to their normally dead state. “My friend here didn't mean to insult your intelligence, he simply meant that he doesn’t want to accidentally bust in your pretty face.”

 

“Excuse me? There’s no way you’re getting out of a fight with those words, boy.” You cracked your knuckles as a shadow passed over your visage. Kuroo could have sworn he saw something like a smirk but when you looked at him again, he only saw that ‘better that you’ sneer.

 

And the ‘boy’. What was up with that? You could not have been much older han Kuroo, who was only twenty six at the moment. He was almost afraid as you approached with your arms out, extended in the traditional boxing position. Kuroo knew when a fight would be hard and by the looks of it you were both strong and persistent. A horrible mixture really. Luckily, Bokuto intervened, yet not in the way Kuroo would have liked nor expected. He, instead, threw the first punch. His hand almost seemed to move in slow motion as you ducked from the fast jab. 

Bokuto was visibly taken aback as Kuroo moved to set himself in a fighting stance. How did you react so quickly when your attention was obviously in a whole other direction? You simply flicked your gaze to Bokuto, eyes narrowed and a dangerous glint to them. Bokuto realized that this was not a fight to take lightly. No. You were the one to not take lightly. He couldn’t place his tongue on it, but there was something about you that oozed a predatory danger. 

You lunged, keeping both fists at your sides until you were just inches from Bokuto. Blowing out with your fist, you placed a well connected straight to his stomach. Bokuto moved back just in time to receive as little as the punch as he could. Nonetheless, its sheer force had him staggering as his breath left him. You countered a kick as Kuroo came in with a high roundhouse. Using your forearm you pushed him back, offsetting his balance. With a quick connection of their eyes, Bokuto and Kuroo moved in sync, throwing out sides kicks to either side of you. You scoffed at their predicatbility and ducked, only to be suddenly swept by Kuroo. You saved your fall and jumped back up to see the eyes of a triumphant cat. 

 

You shot forward to side elbow Kuroo just as Bokuto came under you with an uppercut. Using a free hand you palm heeled Bokuto in the stomach multiple times, allowing his shocked state to save you from what could have been an instant knockout. Bokuto was a man who put power behind every punch, he was a man who fought with the intent to not only disable a person but to put them out of commission for the rest of the fight. That was the difference between the two of you; he fought to put someone out of the way and you fought to cause harm.

 

Kuroo could see this much in your eyes as the three of you exchanged constant blows. It drew the attention of others at the gym as they crowned around the ring to watch the sparring match. It wasn’t like a street brawl, no, this was real hand to hand combat. The kind that someone might only see on a real battlefield. The way you lashed out with speed and power, Kuroo’s carefully calculated movement and superb blocking skills, and Bokuto’s sheer strength and force behind ever attack. It was quite the spectacle realty

 

Kuro wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up, you had barely taken any hits and Kuroo...well he had taken quite a few. The cruelty in your eyes was reflected in each blow as Kuroo once again sluggishly attempted to black a strike. However, he was not fast enough as your elbow came down on the back of neck. Kuroo fell forward, landing hard on his nose. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to get back up again, and this was proven right when only seconds later Bokuto was slammed on top of him. Kuroo felt all the strength in his body give out as he supported, albeit involuntarily, the weight of a man well over 150 lbs. 

 

Bokuto grounded and tried to get up only to find that he couldn’t feel his legs. After a moment of thought as you leaned over him, a strangely placid expression on your countenance, he decided it was time to give in. He raised his hand in surrender. “I...give...I give up.”

 

From below him Kuroo let out a muffled approval. You simply nodded and held out a hand to help Bokuto up. He was surprised to see that it looked like you had not even broken a sweat. Bokuto’s legs were still a little shaky as he stood. Kuroo was the next to rise, his expression exhausted and defeated. “I haven't fought that hard in years.”

 

“Me neither, bro,” Bokuto agreed. He looked to address you, “Thanks for such a tough fight man. It’s good to be reminded of defeat every once in awhile.”

 

“Oh, wow, Bokuto. I didn’t think you could be such a wise owl.”

 

“Shut up, Kuroo! Anyway-HEY WAIT!” Bokuto had once more meant to speak to you but you were already out of the ring and in the corner by the split punching bag, gathering your stuff. Bokuto slipped out the ring as Kuroo reluctantly followed his lively friend. “I never got to catch your name. I’m Bokuto and that's Kuroo.”

 

You hooked you duffel bag over your shoulder as you used your teeth to unwrap your knuckles. “Neat. I go by (Y/N).” Without another word, as mysterious and curt as ever, you pushed past the two and walked out the gym.

 

“Hey, Kuroo? Isn’t he pretty hot. I mean, for a guy.”

 

“Yeah bro, I swear he was giving me a hard on earlier.”

 

“Me too.”

 

You stepped out of the bathroom, nothing adorning your body but a towel wrapped loosely around your waist. Excess water ran down your chest in tiny droplets and you dumped a towel over your head in nonchalance. The fight at the gym was still leaving you slightly invigorated. You did wish that they had put up more of a fight but it seemed that the world was trying to shit on you. 

 

You sat heavily on your bed just as your phone began to ring. With a wrinkled brow and dramatic sigh you leaned over the nightstand to grab it. You accepted the call and brought the phone to your ear with a terse expression. 

“This is (Y/N) (L/N) speaking. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“Wow, that’s so polite of you, (Y/N)-chan!” You cringed as Oikawa giggled on the other line. This was going to be interesting to hear what he had to say.

 

“What do you want, Oikawa?” You did not care to humor him at the moment. It drained you of too much energy, really. 

 

“Aw. It was nice while it lasted. Nevermind that, I just wanted to thank you for your work the other night and tonight I have another assignment for you.

 

This immediately made your ears perk as your mind zeroed in on the receiver intently. You awaited the new with anticipation as you begin to unconsciously bounce a knee. “Yes?”

 

“I have an important business meeting with he Shiratorizawa. Ushijima and his immediate advisors are to be in attendance as well. I want to ask you to also attend. I need a buffer and you are just the thing. Ushijima seemed to take an interest in you and with you on my side well…” Oikawa didn’t have to finish for you to understand. He needed someone to help him secure a deal and you were just that thing.

 

“So, you just need be there so you have another piece on your game board.”

 

“Huh?! No! You aren’t just pawn to me.” Oikawa’s voice was very offensive and he didn’t seem to like what you were insinuating despite how true it was.

 

“Just remember that you may not be the true puppeteer.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean, (Y/N) -chan?”

 

“Don’t worry about and just make sure I get picked up on time. Email me the rest of the information.” Ever the rude one, you promptly hung up, not interested in answering anymore of Oikawa’s questions. You waltzed over to your closet and lazily pulled out a simple navy blue suit and a red tie to match. It was simple and business like. Plus the shoulder pads would help mask the kevlar underneath. 

 

Matsukawa picked you up again, but you didn’t care to make conversation. It seemed that it was too much of a bother to do anything socially nowadays. You took it as a sign that you were getting worse. Soon you’d fall into drugs and alcohol again, this time worse that ever. Evene when they didn’t help you you found a numbness in their consumption and usage. 

 

You stepped out of the car without a thank you or any term of thanks. Matsukawa didn’t feel insulted because you didn’t leave his car in horrible condition like some others but some acknowledgement would have certainly been appreciated. 

 

Yahaba came out from the Shiratorizawa mansion to greet you and escort you to the meeting room. You gave him a nod which he returned with a smile as he rambled on about a date he went on with Kyoutani the other night. You tried to listen to him, but your mind was more focused on the situation at hand. Something in your gut prepared you for the worse, but you simply wrote it off as your growing paranoia due to sleep deprivation. 

 

“Thanks, Yahaba but I think I’m going to have to part ways here,” you spoke rather bluntly with a hand on the door of the meeting room as you pushed it open slowly. You could practically taste the tension that lingered on the other side of the door. With a nod you left him to his own vices as you officially clocked into work. 

 

Heads all turned as you entered is you formal wear, something that amazingly compliment your figure. You looked around the room as you cataloged the position of everything and everyone. It was the first step in securing an area and catching suspicious behaviors or situations. You counted ten heads, ost of which belonged to Ushijima and his men. They are congregated at a typical large round table with wooden chairs that were decorated with plush leather cushions. Papers were sprawled on the table, the contents of which you absorbed quickly. 

 

Oikawa quickly summoned you to his side as you took a chair next to him, conveniently next to Shirabu, the awkward blond you had met on the night of the so called ‘raid’. You spared him a glance and caught the wicked scowl that was in your direction. It caused you to raise single eyebrow and purse your lips in distaste. If he wasn't going to shield his thoughts about you then what was the point of you doing it. Etiquette? Well, you certainly had no qualms about pursuing such a revival and time consuming thing such as that. 

 

You gauged in on Ushijima, who sat across from Oikawa. Next to him was a red haired man, a man who detailing named Tendou Satori, and Semi Eita, a rather attractive grey haired man. 

Tendou Satori, known for his almost physic like ability to predict people and their actions. They called him the Guess Monster. He always knew where to find a good deal and he was the best stockbroker in all of Japan. No one could understand the fluctuation of prices and timing as he could. Then there was Semi Eita, the man with endless assets. He had contacts from around the world. The man who set up deals with terrorist organizations or controlled ven part of the gun trading in America. He could be thirty places at once without ever leaving his desk in Miyagi.

 

It was the strange Goshiki Tsutomu and Shirabu Kenjirou that had to drawing a blank. There was a little information on their skills due to their new admittance in the underground. All you kinew was that Shirabu was more than he seemed to be at the surface. He had clever eyes like a snake and the reminded you of someone you had once come into contact with and never agains wished to do so. 

 

It seemed that Ushijima caught onto your calculating gaze and thinking as he attempted to halt it, if only momentarily. His voice boomed even though it was not particularly loud. “I will now begin the meeting. I want to thank everyone for their attendance to discuss these most pressing matters.”

 

You could see out of the corner of your eyes that you, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa all rolled your eyes at the same time. Oikawa cleared his throat and glanced down at a piece of paper for reference before speaking, “I would like to start off by settling the matter about territory since it is the most recent matter. I find it easier to get the smaller stuff out of the way, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Ushiwaka.” It was hard to find the rather condescending and mocking tone in his voice, but if you listened closely to the way his pitches flutaated then you could clearly see the malevolence and disdain Oikawa felt for this man.

 

Ushijima narrowed his eyes almost imperceptible before giving a slight nod. He leaned over the table and rested his intertwined hands on its red surface. “Yes. You are right, Mr. Oikawa. I have proposed a way to draw up boundaries that I believe both of us will =benefit from. This proposition will be delivered by one of my advisors, Shirabu, I believe that Mr. (L/N) is familiar with him.”

 

Without taking a breathe you watched as Shirabu sunk into his work. He spoke with a natural ease that was probably rehearsed and learned rather than gifted. “If boundary lies were to be drawn at the edge of Karasuno’s territory and then pushed into the outskirts of Osaka then that would give us both about thirty extra miles of territory we did not have before.”

 

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened as he took this is. He couldn't’ help but interject. “What? That leads directly into the Nohebi area.” 

Shirabu's eyes glinted with that same cleverness from before as he slightly smirked. “Yes, sir, that’s right. But please don’t worry, that will of no concern to us. It seems that Nohebi has been pushed back by Nekoma in recent months due to their ongoing war with each other. They won’t realize we have moved in till it’s too late.”

 

Oikawa tilted his head up as a look gathered in his chocolate gaze. “You aren’t wrong, Shirabu, but would you please think of the repercussions that might occur of we were to such a thing. I am well informed that Nohebi has a valuable and dangerous access to North Korean weapons. You know how savage and dirty that Daishou is. He’ll stop at nothing to destroy anyone who messes with him.”

 

Semi raised an eyebrow and regarded Oikawa with unguarded prejudice. “Have you ever had a direct encounter with them or their forces?”

 

Just as Oikawa frowned and shook his head you out in your two cents, “I have and trust me they are not easily trifled with. They are more cunning and more willing to play dirty then anyone I have ever seen.”

 

Semi scowled in your direction, almost as if you were a bug of some kind. “And how do we know your word isn’t to be taken lightly? Have you faced the brute of their attacks?”

 

Your hand twitched as you fought the urge to light a cigarette, “Yeah, I have. Two years ago I took a contract to kill about half their men. I succeeded but not without a price.” You began to take off your blazer as everyone in the room watched in confusion. You rolled up your sleeve to your shoulder, nearly ripping it. The fabric was stiff around your joints and made it hard to move but as you leaned over the table you heard Semi gasp. There on your bicep was two bullet would adjacent to an indented line a surrounded them. “Daishou put to fucking bullets in my arm and then had one of his fucking dogs rip the fucking muscle off my bicep. Not to mention the snake venom the bullets had been laced with. I was lucky it didn’t make it to any important artery. Do you know how hard it is to siphon venom out of your arm without any help?”

 

Ushijima cleared his throat awkwardly before addressing you. “You make a very good point, Mr. (L/N). But you are just one man. How can you really say that he was strong could it have possibly been your fault for your injuries?”

 

You reached for your waistband just as Oikawa pulled you back down to your chair. “Wanna see how strong I am, you asshole? I’ll show you for free.”

 

“Gentlemen, there is no need to start another conflict when we haven’t solved one yet. So let’s calm down and continue the negotiations in a level headed manner.”

 

“Ever the pacifist you're, Oikawa.” You sat down heavily into the chair, tugging down your sleeve as you thought that you really needed a cigarette now. You could barely suppress a scowl. “I suppose that I’ll behave. For now.” 

 

Everyone in the room visibly sighed in relief as you buttoned back up your blazer before Semi once again began to speak. “Now that you have heard our terms do you agree to this, Mr. Oikawa.” A paper and pen were sld from across the table to Oikawa. “The contract also explicitly states that we will not delve into your territory again or at any point in the future.”

 

Oikawa bit his lip and appeared distasteful. He nodded but not before quickly adding, “Of course. I’ll also have my lawyer go through the contract’s specifics.”

 

Everyone seemed to accept those terms with a nod and a few of them signed off on some other papers but as the next issue on the table approached you noticed a heavy tension began to cover the room. It was as if each individual had a particular grievance with whatever the problem was. You soon learned what it was.

 

“Now. there is still the issue of what we shall do about Karasuno’s growing power,” Ushijima did not seem worried but it was hard to tell with him. “They aren’t a threat at the moment but it seems they have a few new recruits that might change all that.”

 

Goshiki rolled his eyes, “But, sir, what can a few kids do that we can’t handle.”

 

Oikawa glared at the coconut head and he immediately shut his mouth. “Have you ever heard the name Kageyama Tobio?” Goshiki thought a moment before shaking his head. “Good. but you have to know for this to make sense to you. He was a young boy I took under my wing to become my successor but we had a rather bad falling out. Let’s just say in ended with him becoming a power hungry dictator and a loose madman.”

 

“I personally think that we should just storm their base and give ‘em a little razzle dazzle. Much like (Y/N) did to us.” geez, Tendou voice was somehow like nails on a chalkboard and that awful man singing Madonna on American idol at the same time.

 

“That’s not a very strategic solution, Satori. I think that since Oikawa’s territory is much closer that he would send his dog to do it for us.”

 

You growled as soon a the word dog came out of Ushijima mouth. This time Oikawa didn’t seem to want you to hold back. And hold back you did not. “What the fuck do you mean ‘dog’ you excuse of a mafia boss? We aren’t running some kind of pound here. Not that you would know with the men you’re employing. I should have took them out when I had the -”

 

You were abruptly cut off as a window broke and glass shard flew. You instinctively shield Oikawa and Iwaizumi knowing that they didn't have on kevlar like you. This didn’t stop a shard of glass from grazing your cheek. They both looked up at your shaking figure in shook. A flame burned in your eyes as you whipped out a pistol faster than any gunslinger. You tried to shot at the intruder only to realize that they were not here they should have been. No, instead they breathed heavily through their ski mask as they held a gun to Shirabu’s head.

He was obviously untrained as he gazed at all ten of the men that had guns pointed at him. He sucked up his fear and yelled out in a shaky voice. “You think those fucking guns will do anything to me? I have this whole joint rigged with C4 and I’m the only one who can disable it.”

 

“What do you want?” Ushijima’s eyes were narrowed dangerously as he regarded the idiot who thought it would be smart to break into a fucking fortress. 

 

“I don’t want your fucking money I want the downfall of Seijou and Shiratorizawa. You have ruled over Miyagi too long and Nohebi wants to change up the map. I’m going to kill this fucker and then blow up this whole building. Even if you kill me it won’t stop anything.”

 

You turned to Semi with a smug expression on our face. “Still think that Nohebi isn’t full of psychos?” You turned back to the masked snake. “So what you're saying is that you have this whole building rigged to blow. And when will this happen?”

 

“Oh I’d say about 30 minutes tops.” His voice was annoying the hell out of t=you, its high and scratchy tones were worse than Tendou. 

 

You put away your gun as you gazed down at Shirabu who gripped his assaulter's arm with bruising strength that still seemed to do nothing to help his current situation. His face was turning purple at this rate and you could see the strain of his neck. “Ok, that’s plenty of time to work with.” You turned to Oikawa with a nod of assurance to which raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, Oikawa, I’ll handle this quickly.”

 

The masked man looked at you like you were an idiot. “What the fuck do you mean you’ll handle me. I’m not some kind of stray dog, I’m here to kill you you, dipshit.”

 

“Ah ah ah, that isn’t language we should be using in here young man. How about we put some soap in your mouth and see how those words taste then?”

 

“Who are you?” His face was full of confusion as you approached him. He let you crouch in front of Shirabu as you cradled his chin. You looked him over before deciding that he had about 90 seconds before he passed out. The man was shocked into a sort of paralysis but he soon jerked away with Shirabu, choking the poor boy even more. He moved the gun from Shirabu’s head to your own.

 

“Good question. But I’m afraid you’ll be dead before you know he answer.” Without wasting a second you lashed out and pressed into the man’s joint were his arm socket connected to hi shoulder. His arm immediately went limp and you threw Shirabu out of the way just as a bullet grazed his arm. You took the Nohebi member by his jaw and took his gun with the other. He fought and writhed in your grip but you proved to be too strong. You grasped the gun before flinging it somewhere across the room. This left you with the chance to wedge your fingers into his mouth as you pried his jaw open. Using your leverage you pushed him into the ground, his head hitting the corner of a chair on the way down. 

 

“I don’t have any soup with me so we’ll have to use an alternative,” you smiled down at him maliciously taking in the primal fear that had sank in his eyes. “I’m going to break your stupid jaw instead.”

 

His eyes caught on where your neck, where the collar of your shirt had rode down. There it sat, that horrible mark that plagued all who survived to see it with insanity and constant night terrors. A symbol of doom and paranoia. It was the Mark of Death. As it was known in the underground. A wolf in black ink, so black it seemed to seep into the nearby blood vessels. Not to mention those horrendous red eyes that reflected your own. You ripped off his mask unceremoniously. 

 

The Nohebi man spoke his last words as his eyes widened and he practically shit himself. “Holy shit! You’re the Black Wolf!?” Then there was the sickening crack and a terrifying scream as you nearly tore his jaw from his face. It wasn’t unhinged, no, you had broken even the bone and the only thing connecting it to his face was the sagging flesh. 

 

You heard a yelp from somewhere beyond you and someone else began to retch. Pussies. Then without any particular flare you stood up as the Nohebi member made noise of agony as he cradled his detached jaw. Blood began to pool forth and exit his mouth as tears mixed with the red. You raised a foot, clad in pristine leather loafers and brought it down on his head. There was a crunch as blood splattered on your shoes. But it didn't’ seem to stop there as you stomped on his face several more times. By the time you stopped your foot was covered in brain matter and some other things better left unsaid. The man’s face was nothing but a mess of flesh and bone. 

 

You turned to address all in attendance. You met shocked and pale faces. Your own expression was struggle stoic as you held no remorse for the gruesome murder you had just committed. You looked down to see Shirabu trying to hold in his bile. All the eyes were either on the body or you. 

 

You wiped your shoe onto the man’s pants and sighed. “Damn, I really liked these shoes too. Now, I should probably go disarm that bomb.”

 

“I heard what he said, (L/N), he said you are the Black Wolf. Is this true?” You looked at You with mild disdain and slight impatience. You pointed down the body before crouching down and taking one of its arms. You waved it mockingly at Tendou. 

 

“If you don’t want to end up like our friend here, then I suggest that you never utter that name again. Alright?”

 

“What the fuck even are you? You just killed a man in the most disgusting way i have ever seen.”

 

You shrugged. “I don’t know really. Now if you’ll excuse me, “ you got up gingerly wiping off your suit as you made your way to the door, “I have a bomb to disarm and probably some of your men to scrape off the floor. Nevermind, it might only be our Nohebi friend who needs to be scrapped.” 

 

You exited the room just as Oikawa and Ushijima lunged after you.


	7. A Story From The Past

Beading eyes followed like monsters in the night. They burned a hole into your body until you could think of nothing else but their focus. You would lose your yours. Your sanity was next, you would yell and plead for the eyes to not stare. They would never uplift their gaze, it was as searing as it was freeing. The paralysis contradicting the restlessness that would pour into you. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts. Ithurtsithurtsithurtspleasemakethepainstopmakeitstopmakeitstop. MAKE IT STOP, OH GOD PLEASE THE EYES, THE EYES BURN!

The panic was inward, there was no telltale signs, but you could just about collapse in an anxiety attack. Yet you had a reputation to uphold. Your boot sank in the snow around you and your hot sweat quickly cooled at exposure to the chill. You tried grounding exercises. They never worked. Neither did breathing, only the painful task of recollecting memories brought your thoughts away from the eyes. 

You slept with the window open, no matter the weather. Some thought of it as an inconvenience and foolish. It really wasn’t. You could feel the cold air when it snowed and the rain would patter on the window sill when it rained. Your room, consequently, was always cold. It kept people out of your domain, in the many days when it was to much to do anything but sleep. The weather also reminded you to feel, that even if you were empty this world had life beyond comparison. Life went on without you and it was up to you to catch up to the beautiful cycle. 

It helped, strangely enough. That in itself, was almost unbearable to say, you had to grit your teeth even as you thought it. But that didn’t matter, what mattered was that you were here, alive and well...that was about it. Your drill sergeant sent you a look, not understanding how a human can have no emotional expression at all. Occasionally he could catch a twitch in your cheek, but those dead fish eyes said something else. They spoke of a darker place, one they could never remember but never forget. You nodded, a sudden tightening of your features. It was almost like you were holding something back from tearing through your skin. A beast that could not be confined in a cage of flesh and feeling, or a lack thereof. 

You approached the cone, energy surging through you. You dampened it, knowing all too well that adrenaline did not enhance performance. It stunted it actually, something many couldn’t tell you. The drill sergeant cleared his throat as you looked to your side. 

There was your opponent. He was a grizzly of a man, he could probably sit on you and not even notice while you suffocated. Where he strong, you made up for your limberness. He sent you a growl, his eyes deep in their sockets. It was sickly to look at, a man who appeared on the verge of death when in reality his performance bested even the best of them. Who was them? They were the soldiers. The people who fought for a cause without a cause. The people who led you into ruins and smiled as they placed a bullet in your head. A monster with a gun was frightening. A man with a gun was flat out terrifying.

You scoffed as you stretched out your shoulder. “I didn’t realize they allowed animals in the military. Guess anything goes in this country.”  
A nearby soldier blanched at your words as another went red in anger. You guessed he was the bearman's’ friend. “You should really learn your place, rookie! How about Butch teaches it to you?”

You sparred a glance at the bearman, now proclaimed to be Butch. “So you must be Butch. Say is that your lover over there? Beastilaity is illegal, you know?” With a wicked grin you pointed at Butch as you addressed the guy who defended him. “After I leave his ass in the dust mind sharing how that dog dick feels?” 

With your words you could hear a chorus of laughter outrage and other offhanded comments. Your drill sergeant looked at you under the brim of his hat in mild amusement. He brought a whistle to his lips and you and Butch stalked up to the starting line. Before you was an obstacle course, complete with platforms and walls to scale, ropes to climb, items to lift, and much running. It was the ultimate test of stamina and strength. 

At the shrill shriek of the whistle, you were off before Butch could even blink. Your boots left imprints in the snow as you ran to the first wall. You foot caught the top of a ledge as you leaped, your arms swinging up to latch on the top of the wall. You could faintly hear the comments people made. “Did he just jump like five fucking feet?!” “What the fuck is he? He left Butch in the dust!” You felt Butch slam into the wall just as you begin to pull yourself over the top. 

You scaled the wall, dropping to the ground with a roll. Just as you began running again, Butch landed next to you. You could hear his gasp as he absorbed the shock into his legs. You smirked at his foolishness and continued on. You passed the next platform with ease, meeting that same with having to move the rocks from out of your path. The rest of the course went on like that. Butch desperately trying to catch up to you as you leisurely completed the course. Everyone could see it in your eyes. The blankness in them. It could also be seen by the casually pumping of your legs as you even stopped to readjust your hat at one point.

“Is he even trying?” “This thing has to be rigged. There’s no way a kid like him is beating Butch so easily.” You passed the finish line in just under five minutes. Only moments after, Butch barreled past the line and smashed into you. Your back had been turned, but that didn’t stop you from dropping to the ground upon impact. It sent Butch rolling harmlessly over your back. You popped back up like a spring, only to be charged by the bull of a man once more. He came at you with fury in his fits and resentment in his eyes. You could understand his hurt, humiliation was something that once planted seeded itself deep within you until t grew so large that all was consumed.

You sidestepped his hit, noly to be taken aback by a sudden change in trajectory. He had predicted your moves, a first for you in many years. You had to bite the inside of your cheek. Showing any indication of emotions was not what you wanted to do in a place like this. All these desperate men fed off insecurities and feelings. Two things you were full of and could not express. It had been like this for years, so simply replaying years worth of practice was nothing much for you. 

Butch’s hand came came down on your head, at least it was supposed you. The last thing he expected was for someone as small as you to catch his arm. You didn’t seem to struggle under the massive weight, like one would have thought you might have. You pivot your foot, gathering all your weight into your arms as you pushed the behemoth off balance. Without any semblance hope that he might catch himself, Butch plummeted to the ground. The snow was far too loose and powdery to aid in breaking his fall any, not that it was of any concern to you. You were already walking away towards the barracks.

You didn’t walk with swagger or confidence, the drill sergeant overseeing the obstacle course noted. There was nothing in your posture that gave away anything but a strict military discipline. He knew you were not drafted, and many who were,’t like Buth joined the core voluntary. It was hard to make you as an enigma. You knew something of an enigma even if it was shrouded in much mystery. You are something of another caliber, something that there was not a name for. All he knew of you was that you are human, even though that might not have been true. The drill sergeant did not put it past you. 

 

There were many things that confused you about people. Their spite and pettiness resided somewhere at the top of that list. These pitiful jokes and rude attempts at pranks did nothing but fuel you distaste. A distaste not only for your fellow rookies, but simply towards life in general. It was irritating having to listen to vulgar innuendos and other men jacking off in the middle of the night. Did they have no decency, that they might at least go to the showers to wank off? 

They had taken your clothes again. Yes, again. At this point it had become a highly occurring thing. Taking your underwear and all, in hopes that you might get angry. No, no angry., That you might express something other than that placid expression. 

As you stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around your waist lightly, you approached a certain blond immediately. He smirked at you, although it fell away as you reached out a hand to him. Your palm was skywards as you beckoned him forth he hesitantly stepped forward, never experiencing something like this. Most of the time to simply found other clothes or you waited for yours to be thrown at you from across the room. 

The blond, who you knew to be aptly named Thomas, narrowed his eyes at you and he loomed over you. A scowl was present, but what was more noticeable was the fear that lurked in the back of his eyes. You would have been able to see if you were not looking for it. For you, this kind of search came natural, for too many times you had found yourself with Thomas’s eyes in the past. 

“I would like to have my clothes back.” The calmness and lack of tone or spoke with almost made Thomas step back. 

He barked up a laugh,clapping a hand on your shoulder. You tensed under the contact and brushed his hand off of you swiftly. “Well why didn’t you just say so sooner. Of course you can get them back,” his expression turned dark, “all you have to do is get on your knees and suck my cock.”

You raised an eyebrow, ever the patient one. “I’m not going to do that. I would like my clothes back, thank you.”

That’s when he touched you again, trying to force you to the ground. Trying to harass you without knowing the consequences for his actions. You had to applaud him for such bravery, it was truly commendable despite the evident and clear fear in his eyes. He sure did a good job of masking it with cruel laughter and a fake confidence.

You gave him a glimpse of something other than stillness. It was disbelief, that this man had the nerve to do what only 16 year old children would do in a high school locker room. So you did the only thing in your power. You beat the shit out the kid, until he could barely spit out were he kid your clothes with all the blood pooling between his teeth. 

From that day on, no one is the barracks messed with you. It was the beginning of an era of peace and violence all at once. The respect was not disingenuous but it was also not freely given. They knew you were strong and they just simply wished that he might not experience anything like that. You had. You had been on your knees for someone once, bowed to them when they didn’t deserve it. Were you to become that person? Were you to make others suffer at the same hand? Only the slow passage of time could tell.


	8. More Questions Asked Then Answered

No one could really understand how someone could commit a murder so grizzly. It was simply a marvel to think that even mafia didn’t sink that low. Nevermind, that was a blatant lie and they all knew it. But you weren’t part of such a criminal organization, simply being a hired gun. So why did you have the skills of a super soldier? What were you, truly?

 

There was no hope for either Oikawa or Ushijima to have such questions answered as they barreled out of the room and after you. Their frames caught in the door, as they pass glares between each other. You were already halfway down the hallway, whistling and kicking your feet up. There weren’t many but the bodies of Ushijima men propped against the wall, complete with bullet holes, was enough to make him stop in his tracks. 

 

Oikawa was not so easily deterred, demanding that you stop. You ignore him completely, simply whistling even louder. It was incredibly arrogant of you, but by this time such a cockiness came expected. It would be unnatural if you didn’t look down on them. It took Ushijima grabbing his wrist roughly and pulling him back for his insistence to stop.

 

Even then, Ushijima could feel Oikawa’s concern for you. It puzzled him. Why would Oikawa be concerned for you? You certainly seemed to be stable and you were not hurt in anyway. Leave it to one of the largest mob bosses to not understand the human complexities. He could barely understand his own feelings. Especially this yearning he had for you. It was almost as if he wanted to know every bit of you. It must simply be a lust for your skills, the assets he wanted on his side. What else could it be? There was nothing else you brought to the table. The sass and difficulty was not favorable in the least. Too bad really, that you worked for a man like Oikawa. A man who hid his true nature behind a pacifist exterior. Ushijima could only wonder if you saw what was under, or if you were not as observant as it had seemed before. 

 

Oikawa whipped around, his eyes filled with flames and he huffed out a breath. “Goddammit Ushiwaka, why did you stop me?”

 

“If what that Nohebi man said was true, then I believe we should leave (Y/N) to disarm the explosives. I do rather value this mansion and its inhabitants.”

 

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Ushiwaka, never have and never will. We’re still enemies after all. So stay out of my way, (Y/N) is my man, not yours. Got it?”

 

Ushijima resisted the urge to roll his eyes, it was quite difficult to put up with the drama queen before him. He wondered how Iwaizumi and the others could tolerate it. “I was simply stating the most logical sequence of actions.”

 

“Oh, shove it up your ass!”

 

 

You stood in the elevator. Trying to gauge a way that you could successfully remove the upper ventilation grate and then shimmy up the elevator shaft. After locating the assailant's entry point and then following his body trail you found the main detonator. It was only a few minutes before it would reach the end of it countdown. You didn’t worry, this was nothing new. A sentence you thought you would never find yourself, especially in a situation like this. It was comical really, simply the whole night’s absurdity.

 

You tapped a finger on your chin, guessing you would actually have to take the bomb from the shaft into the elevator to disarm it. This was a little more work then you had anticipated, and for once you wished you could just go home and chill with your dog. It seemed that the universe had other plans for you. It was tiring really, this day in and day out routine of killing and training. The paranoia certainly didn’t make things easier too. 

 

You did a couple of weary squats, preparing your legs for the high jump they would have to makes. The hatch was rather high up, you estimated that it was about a good nine feet from the floor. You then leaped up, catching onto the edge, before hoisting yourself up. Kicking your feet a little bit, you seated yourself on top of the elevator, looking for the explosive. 

 

You saw the blinking red lights before grinning. Gingerly grabbing it, you carefully set it and yourself back down in the elevator. Sitting cross-legged before the package, you pull a kit out of your utility belt. It was a lock picking kit, but it would just have to do. You couldn’t afford to not improvise. 

 

Taking a thin tool, you gently moved the wires apart to see the inner workings of the bomb. It was a simply design, nothing nearly complex as what you had dealt with in the middle east. With a few cuts by some smalc pliers you heard a click. The bomb seemed to disengage as the clock stopped and the c4 attached, fell off. You smiled thinly, ready to tell your employer the news.

 

 

Oikawa leaned against the wall, absentmindedly kicking the boot of one of Ushijima’s dead men. This did not escape the other man’s notice, as he leaned on the wall in front of Oikawa. His eyes flitted down to the body, a frown decorating his normally stoic expression.

 

He wasn’t sad or upset about the loss of men, but rather the resources he had spent on them. It was an incredibly selfish thing, to throw away life for money. Ushijima thought differently, that throwing away money for life was even worse. It was a materialistic fear that was born from a sense of entitlement and disregard of basic human worth. It had followed him for years, just one reason for Oikawa’s obvious distaste for the man. 

 

“You hired a strange man, Oikawa.”

 

The brunet passed a hand through his locks, letting out an indignant scoff. “You’re telling me. Never thought he’d kill a man like that. His contract said gun based operations. That scene certainly didn’t involve a single gun.”

 

“He also seemed to get touchy when Tendou asked if he was - what was it?”

 

“The Black Wolf, or something badass like that.”

 

“Hmm. How much do you know about (L/N)’s past? Before he was a gun for hire.” Ushijima didn’t expect the man to know much, with the aura you held it seemed like your past was just as much as an enigma as your future. It was all uncertain and your personality was erratic. You seemed to be almost kind one minute and the nex you were a seasoned veteran in mania. It was unpredictable and Ushijima didn’t like it. He didn’t like things he couldn't’ control, it made him feel powerless. 

“No, I can’t seem to find a single thing on him, no matter who I contact. It’s almost like he doesn’t even exist, and yet he has a credible ID and credit cards. I never seen something like this.”

“That’s a liability on your part, not knowing the man you hired. What if he’s in deep with some others, like the government?”

“Then you should keep your nose out of other’s business. It’s like you have nothing better to do then snoop. No wonder your organization is failing like it is.”

 

“You better watch that silver tongue of yours, Oikawa, you’re starting to sound like you-know-who.”

 

“Oh, please, don’t compare me to that cat. He starts shit just for the hell of it.”

 

“And you don’t? I would beg to differ.” Ushijima raised an eyebrow, just as you emerged from within the elevator. Your face was smeared with grime and you looked thoroughly bored, or maybe it was exhaustion. You shot both the man a glance before taking Oikawa’s wrist and dragging him off. Ushijima didn’t have to follow either of you, simply far too intrigued and already making a mental checklist. He was going to find out who you were, even if it took killing someone for information. Not that it would be the first time he’s done it. 

 

It was only a few hours after you had left, leaving some compensation for the damages that had occured. A clean up had been done, leaving no evidence of the disaster that had happened just hours ago. Almost like it never happened as far as Ushijima was concerned, the affair was over but not forgotten. Nohebi would pay for this, thinking they could pull some bold stunt like this and not suffer Hell’s wrath. Nothing in this world came without consequences and Ushijima was sure to reiterate this. 

 

Tendou stared at his boss inquisitively. He had been fading in and out of attention for a while. The Guess Monster could only wonder what was running through his thoughts, for even to him they served as an enigma. So were you, and it made Tendo angry. He had an inkling that he knew you but that sharp glare was enough to scare him into denial. If you were who he thought then everything would become much worse than it was already. You were an omen and their doom was set.

 

“What do you know about (L/N), Tendou?” Tendou shrugged as he leaned back in the chair, kicking his feet up on the table. 

“I really don’t know anything about him, sir.”

 

“And yet earlier you seemed to know exactly who he was.”

 

“I apologize, sir, but I had mistaken him for someone else.” Tendou fidgeted nervously. Ushijima was no idiot and this questioning would continue until Ushijima was satisfied, and there could be nothing to stop him. 

 

“And this ‘Black Wolf’, tell me about him.” Ushijima eyes were dark, darker than normal. It elicited something akin to fear in tendou. If his boss was this desperate for information then he was afraid to think of what he would do to receive it. Tendou had no choice but to share what he knew.

 

“I don’t know who the Black Wolf is but I know of him. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t heard of him either. He’s this big mysterious figure in the underground. He was an assassin. He’d kill anyone for anything. The murders were alway grizzly and as far as I know he’s never left any trace of evidence at the scenes. Not even his employers know anything about him. He’s always hired off this one site. A few years ago after wiping out a sector of the Chinese triad he went off the grid.

 

“It’s ridiculous, sir, that one man can kill over two hundred men in just one night and have no witnesses. Nut, yeah, ever since that one he’s been uncontactable and hasn’t surfaced since. Some think he’s dead.”

 

Ushijima nodded, leaning down to rest his chin on top of his intertwined hands. There was a lot of holes in the story but that was to be expected when you didn’t even have a face to go off of. Ushijima was struck with something he liked to consider intrigue. What if (L/N) really was this brutal killer? It wouldn’t helped him in picking out the man’ personality and thought process any. It would make some good blackmail if he could somehow link him to the Black Wolf. 

 

“What do you think, Tendou? What do you think happened to this infamous Black Wolf?”

 

Tendou expression went uncharacteristically dark, every trace of a joke or playfulness wiped from his features. He spoke with such malice that Ushijima almost believed that the Black Wolf had personally wronged him. And just maybe he had. “I think he’s here, sir. I think he’s among us even now, hiding behind a mask and pretending that he isn’t a monster.”

 

“You think he’s a monster?”

 

“No, sir, I think he’s the closest thing we have to a god and that makes him a monster.”


	9. In Which You Puke and Warn the Crows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for dealing with my short hiatus and irregular update schedule. I'd loved to see theories and your thoughts on the work. Please feel free to ask me questions or simply share your thoughts. In fact, I highly encourage it!

Life was a joke and there was nothing else to it. It didn’t have much to offer him, even from childhood. One disappointment after another, so it was truly no wonder that even with all the whiskey bottles surrounding him and the full ashtray that an emptiness edged even at his chest now. (Y/N) clutched at his chest, the cotton material of his shirt soaking in the sweat of his trembling palms. Lurching from the sofa, he nearly stepped on Scylla’s tail, the dog whimpering as it scratched at the tile in a desperate attempt to calm her master. It did nothing as (Y/N) stumbled in disorientation to the bathroom his mind only focusing on the medicine cabinet. He could hear blood pumping through his ears as his pupil dilated and expanded rapidly leaving him with little visual assistance. 

 

His breath came out in exasperated huffs, his knuckles turning white with the force at which he clutched at his shirt. “Shit, shit, shit…” almost like a panicked chant did the vulgarities leave from him. The pumping of blood only got louder as the muscles of his legs tightened and threatened to seize up. Refusing to collapse to these cramps, he shakily wrenched the medicine cabinet open. Opening the lid proved fruitless as his body trembled, leaving him no choice but to smash the plastic against the wall until pieces splintered off. Taking a handful of the pills into his mouth, (Y/N) slid down the bathroom wall. The tiles were cold beneath him and he shivered.

 

Fuck. He had almost forgotten what this felt like. How incredibly foolish of him. To think that he could escape from this part of him, his handicap he’s carried for years. Like the pain of an old broken bone, it just never seems to leave and even when it does you’re stuck with the echo that never truly leaves. He almost wants to swing and crack his skull on the wall. To see the light fade and feel the blood run down his face. This reality isn't that merciful though, and the pills take almost an hour to kick in. An hour of mind-numbing chest pains and fuzzy lights blurring before him.

 

Standing and leaning precariously on the sink, (Y/N) can’t help but sneer at his disheveled appearance. He rubs a hand over the stubble on his chin before scrunching his nose. Distaste fills his body. “You’re a disgusting fucking pig, (Y/N). Why don’t you take a fucking shower once in a while.” He laughs off his own self-chastisement that seems all too genuine. 

 

A familiar thing comes from the direction of his bedroom, and (Y/N) with heavy limbs and needing energy, groans before heading to his kitchen instead. He enters his bedroom with a handful of licorice, taking the phone in another. He reads the message quickly, skimming over the lengthier parts of it. He knows his objective and is not at all ready to face it, but it’s not like they’ll ever know. The task itself is pretty simple: meet Oikawa and Co. at an opium den disguised at a bar, Vultures, and discuss recent records of stolen cocaine imports happening at Yokohama Bay. The suspect: Karasuno, an up and coming family in the underground, particularly known for distributing drugs and prostitutes in the junctions between Japan and Fiji. 

 

(Y/N) nearly jumps out of the car, climbing like a fucking monkey over Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi pushes him forward, raising an eyebrow as (Y/N) makes for some bushes. He only briskly looks over his shoulder, an elbow poise near his mouth. “I gotta hurl real quick.”

 

Oikawa steps to the side as (Y/N) passes him, disgust in his voice, “Fucking disgusting.” He saddles up next to Iwaizumi, suddenly smiling in amusement. “Yo, Iwa, I didn’t think that super soldiers like him actually did human functions.” This statement doesn’t elude (Y/N)’s ears, even as he busies himself with emptying hours of cheap alcohol and junk food from within him. His body tenses at the words. Does he know? Oh God, he can’t fucking know, it’s impossible! 

 

Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief he opens a mint in his mouth, biting down with a crunch. His eyes burn with suspicion and slight contempt. A suffocating feeling surrounds him, a dark and thick mist of paranoia. He strides to Oikawa, loosening his tie with one hand as his other hand slips to his waistband. “Don’t ever call me a soldier again. You know nothing, boy.”

 

Iwaizumi watches the male’s skittish hands as they graze the metal. His own hand closes in on his gun. I’m pretty sure that Oikawa is way older than this guy. If this guy moves any further then I might have to do something I’ll regret. Yet somewhere in him, he knew, that even attempting to kill this man would be such an incredibly horrible move, so bad that he wouldn’t make it out alive. He placed a hand on both Oikawa and (Y/N)’s shoulder. “How about we calm down, I don’t care what’s happening in that snark ass head of yours, (Y/N), but we didn’t hire you to go agro on your own employer.”

 

This seemed to get (Y/N)’s head out of his ass as he forced a pleasant smile and nodded. “You’re right, I forgot myself for a minute.” Turning to Oikawa he bowed at a full ninety degrees, “My apologies, sir.” There was something off about the whole thing like it was rehearsed. It was too perfect. Too perfect. Oikawa and Imaizumi simply brushed it off. They had larger things to worry about, such as Karasuno. They knew that at the first sign of aggression that (Y/N) would become the little taunting shit he was. And as far as Imaizumi knew, the Karasuno group had several difficult characters within its ranks. 

 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi shared a glance, both having the same thoughts. Oikawa placed a hand on the small of (Y/N)’s back, leading him on gently. Tensely, the man let him. They entered the building, a tall skyscraper type thing. It was all dark glass on the outside and it smelled on fresh paint. The inside was dark, everything was some deep hue of blue or gray. It was dismal, reminded (Y/N) of a funeral home. Everyone was dressed in a dark suit with either bright orange dress shirts or ties. He noticed as a guard twitched at the sight of them, that they all shared yet another similarity. Just below their Adam's apple was a symbol, emblazoned into their skin with fire and metal. It was a crow, taking flight with what was vaguely shaped like a human heart in its mouth. Karasuno’s trademark family crest was quite a thing to behold. A symbol that simultaneously elicited fear and admiration. 

 

The guard stepped aside to let them pass before tailing them. He even looked thuggish with that shaved head and perpetual scowl, and for a moment (Y/N) thought of Kyoutani. He snorted and turned away, feeling stares against the back of his head. As they approached an open doorway, which was a yawning arch of a dark and heavy stone, suddenly felt like he was walking into a room of people he already knew. There was a cozy aura to the room, the fires lit at respective fireplaces and armchairs instead of backbreaking ones. Falling behind (Y/N) stood silently behind Oikawa and Imaizumi as they seated themselves. The guard from before was nearby, speaking to a shorter male with a tuft of blond hair against darker locks. They caught (Y/N) eyeing them and stared back with intensity. Negating his gaze elsewhere, (Y/N) found himself pleasantly surprised. 

 

There standing against a wall in an adjacent corner, talking to a man who fitted the description of one Daichi Sawamura, the Karasuno family boss, was the two Karasuno men from the alley and cafe. The orange one was yelling with a bubbly tone as his partner looked down at him with distaste. They seemed to take no notice of his presence, which of course was all the better. He really didn’t want to go through the trouble of explaining how he knew him, especially if they decided to attack him for all he’s done.

 

Clapping the each of them on the shoulder, Daichi walked away and sat in an armchair across from Oikawa. Their eyes met over the round surface, just before his eyes flitted over to the blueberry looking kid. His eyes sparked with familiarity then sudden anger. Any sign of it disappeared just as fast as it had come. Ushijima did mention that one of Oikawa’s own had left him for the Karasuno group. This must be him. His name was...shit. I don't remember. Something like Kagatama or Toblo. Fuck it. He’s now known as berry Boy. And the one next to him with the orange hair is Sunshine Shortie.

 

Daichi clears his throat and everything suddenly becomes silent. His men become statues in their positions, looking past anyone’s head. Commanding a room as Daichi does, is not something that is simple or becomes easy. (Y/N) knows, that inert ability to refuse his commands, in the way that all but your mind is compelled into action. He wasn’t sure how to put it into words, the trust you put in someone. They held your life in their hands, and you could do nothing but simply wish they wouldn’t leave you to die. 

“I would lie to start off by welcoming our two representatives from Seijou. Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime. I expect you, men, to provide them with the utmost respect they deserve.” Daichi turned his attention to Oikawa and tried to smile as warmly as he could, “If you at all feel dissatisfied with our services at any time please let me know.” His hands came together on top of the table, “I do wish this meeting had ensued on far better terms and circumstances.”

 

Oikawa quirked up the corner of his mouth. “As do I, Daichi, but nothing is assured yet, these are simply precautionary measures to ensure good relations between our two families.” (Y/N) couldn’t help but think that all these formalities and fake smiles were sickening. You needed information then you took it, you didn’t skirt around and offer martinis to the enemy. (Y/N) felt suffocated as he watched the two men continue on with mild temperaments, not evening pressing on the issue. 

 

He casted a wary glance to Berry Boy and Sunshine Shortie before leaning down to Oikawa’s ear. He spoke loud enough for about everyone in the room to hear, “Excuse me, sir, but please keep in mind that you have another appointment to attend to at 9:30.”

 

Oikawa’s eyes went wide, his face blunt with confusion before settling into an understanding of what he assumed the message to be for. Little (Y/N) must have sensed his discomfort with Kageyama being in the room and decided to take action. This was not the case. “Ah, yes. Thank you for the reminder, (Y/N). I will keep that in mind.” Stepping back with a silent nod, (Y/N) watched as Berry Boy and Sunshine stared at him with wonder. He stared at them blankly, his face not registering any sign of recognition. They thought he had forgotten them and for a moment relief sprung throughout their thin bodies. Suddenly, (Y/N) grinned at them and winked. He watched as they involuntarily shivered, eyes skirting around the room. Just anywhere but him and the maliciousness he hid under a thin layer of skin.

 

Daichi’s quaint smile faltered as a slight frustration glimmer. It was not that he minded a short exchange but the way that as he spoke Oikawa’s bodyguard met Daichi’s eyes. He was met with an open hostility, seeing contempt written in every feature on (Y/N)’s face. His smile turned into a nervous one as he nodded. “Oh yes, of course. That is no issue.”

 

So they finally got to the business at hand, and (Y/N) watched the men go back and forth with their own arguments and evidence. It had appeared that Karasuno wasn’t guilty and that someone else had taken the shipments. They both came to the conclusion Karasuno would aid them in their search for the missing cargo, for the fear that they’d target Karasuno next. As Oikawa rises from his chair he gave Daichi a small smile, something nostalgic and sad in it. “You know, Daichi, you have come so far from when you had fallen. It makes me wonder if this is a new age and the old groups are to die out.”

 

Daichi laughed, although there was no humor in it. His eyes spoke of conquests and sieges. A king hungry for power and willing to fight for it. “Let us hope that your path doesn’t take you there.” With a firm handshake, he watched the departure of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, their bodyguard lagging behind. 

 

The bodyguard turned to the remaining Karasuno men, looking each one up and down. He made a sound like he had realized something by looking at them. He was a fairly tall man, with features that weren’t attractive in an aesthetic way but the sheer emotions it exudes. A man settled in the pocket of his leather jacket. His eyes met with Kageyama and Hinata, narrowing considerably. Daichi watched the boys then, suddenly alert as fear flashed across their countenances. 

 

(Y/N) threw his head back and groaned loudly. “Geez, Mr. Daichi you ad Oikawa were killing me with all your smiles and pleasantries. I thought I might fall asleep. Anyway, as a word of advice, I’d be careful when you’re digging about for the missing drugs. The whole situation just doesn’t feel right.” The hand slipped out the pocket, a carton of cigarettes and a cheap lighter with it. He shielded the flame as the filter lit up. Taking a short draw (Y/N) continued, “Oh, and tell Sunshine Shortie and berry Boy to keep out alleys from now on. I can’t always be around to stop their little gunfights, especially where it’s none of my business.”

 

In a plume of smoke, smelling of old books and cheap tobacco, (Y/N) had left the room. Daichi seemed unfazed by the hitman’s words, simply making a motion at Nishinoya. “Get Tsukishima to look up that guy’s file. We only have his face and the name (Y/N) as reference.” Suddenly his head hired as he addressed Kageyama and his pint-sized companion. “He knew you two. What happened?” 

 

The guard with the shaved head from before spoke up, “Why are you so concerned with this guy, sir? He just seemed like some mouthy hired gun to me.”

 

Daichi scoffed, “Oikawa doesn’t just hire nobodies and he definitely isn’t someone who plans to join the ranks. When he reached into his pocket I noticed something. He was carrying a Welrod. It’s not much in terms of firepower, back in the day it was something used for low profile assassinations. No normal man would carry a weapon like that unless he meant to kill in secret. Even a pro assassin would carry something much better.”

 

Tanaka scratched that back of his neck, “Maybe he just isn’t well known enough to carry the expensive stuff? Or maybe he likes antiques?”

 

Daichi shook his head, “No I don’t think that’ the case. If anything, I’d be more scared of a man who rolls around with a Welrod than anything else. He just doesn’t feel normal.”

 

Nishinoya came running back into the room, a small sheet of paper in his hand. He handed it off to Daichi. “Tsukishima said he didn’t find anything on the guy. It seemed to make him more angry than usual, but he left me this note to give to you.”

Daichi opened the note, reading the message carefully. It was written sloppily and as follows:

What the fuck was my depressing ass alcoholic neighbor doing here? We need to talk, sir. Bring Kageyama and Hinata.

 

Nodding sullenly and slowly, he folded the note before storing it into a pants pocket. “All except Kageyama and Hinata are dismissed. You two, we need to have a meeting with Tsukishima, apparently we have more connections to this (Y/N) then we thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd loved to see theories and your thoughts on the work. Please feel free to ask me questions or simply share your thoughts. In fact, I highly encourage it!


	10. In Which You Body Slam A Tall Blond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I apologize for being slow on the updates, I have several projects I'm working on at the moment.

(Y/N) dreamt of a darkness. A darkness that seemed so empty that even the hope and knowledge of light was forgotten, cast from this place. Then there was light, so bright as it flew around him, forming into the things of his childhood. Things that were, that could have been, and things that never did. He saw the faces of his father, for the man had many things he hid. He saw his warm smile and then that crazed passion as he carved the meat. Then he saw his mother, her hair tickled his face as she poisoned his hand, the hand that held the knife. Then he saw his brothers, one with those hunger filled eyes and the other crying in a corner, scratching at the skin on his arms until they bled and skin fell away to muscle. Then he saw himself in a twisted mirror, his reflection distorted. This wasn’t him, was it? His eyes didn’t sink into their sockets like that, his hands didn’t twitch, and his teeth couldn’t humanly be that sharp. So why was this him? Why did he know this was him? This horrid nostalgia and longing, it existed in him. If it had to take a form, he would say that it was in this twisted and crooked version of himself. 

 

It’s head jerked as (Y/N) met the eyes of his twisted twin. It grinned with long teeth, an action that seemed to be a warning. No, it wasn’t smiling. The thing had been baring its teeth at (Y/N). “I can’t wait until you become me. We will do many great things together and all will burn for it.” There was a clear way to describe his own voice, only that is was his own and yet not. A deep tone that shook mountains as it hissed the damning decree. 

 

(Y/N) woke up with two thoughts on his mind: fuck everyone and he wanted coffee. The former was a common thought, seeing as he shared a certain discontentment with humanity in general. Wanting coffee, however, was strange; seeing as how the last he drank the shit was almost a decade ago. His dad had drunk coffee, a fresh pot made almost twice a day. He loved it almost as much as he loved chewing at nasty tobacco chew. It even came to the point the pot smelled of a musk familiar and damning all the same. 

 

Pushing the craving away, hoping it never came back to him, (Y/N) slipped on his pants and grabbed the cigarettes and lighter strewn on his nightstand. Throwing a jacket over his bare torso, he beckoned Scylla out the apartment. She made a quick beeline to the grass, an urgent need for relief. Sighing, (Y/N) dug his hands into his pocket, not yet ready to accept that tomorrow had come already. The dog, passing by her owner with a tongue lolling, left to return to the comfort of an air-conditioned apartment. Leaving the tired man by himself, he took a shuddering breath as a quiet apprehension overtook his body. It was akin to paralysis, he wasn’t sure if the echoes of the past were true. If it was perhaps not as sinister as he remembered and that he might wake up one morning and suddenly all the medicine and alcohol would become obsolete. 

 

Quickly lighting a cigarette he placed it to cracked lips, sucking in the chemicals like fresh air. He waited for the trembling to cease and for his head to clear. It didn’t happen. Of course not, because things were catching up to him, as nightmares always do. Another person stepped out from their back door. (Y/N) didn’t care to turn around, instead softly humming a song to himself. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. 

 

“Oh my! I never took you as the type that enjoyed old American music.” Taunting and annoying as ever. (Y/N) turned and gave a flat look to Tsukishima before turning back around. He huffed around the cigarette that was just a butt by now. He flicked it and quickly put it out with the sole of his shoe, already grabbing for another one. “I thought I told you to lay off those nasty things, or you’ll be a bachelor forever.”

 

“And I thought I told you to fuck off, sorry to disappoint.” Tsukishima placed a hand on his shoulder, a daring move. Reacting on pure irritation and instinct alone, (Y/N) hooked his arm under Tsuki’s extended elbow, locking it into place. Stepping out, he pushed with his body and pulled down, flipping the blond over his shoulder. Careful in all this movement, to keep his cigarette locked between his lips, pulling in short breaths and letting the smoke filter from his nose. Admiring his short work, (Y/N) softly smirked, running a calloused hand through his messy bedhead. 

 

As he watched the winded man glare up at him, grasping around his torso as his lungs struggled to function, he felt a speck of pity. Wrinkling his brow, (Y/N) reached out a hesitant hand, turning away so he didn’t have to face Tsuki. Tsuki looked up at his extended hand incredulously but took it all the same. When he was steady on his feet, Tsuki took a minute to stare down (Y/N). It was like he was intaking every detail about him and cataloging it to memory. It put (Y/N) at unease and he shivered under the prying gaze but made no sign he cared.

 

Just as he finished his third cigarette, feeling a coughing fit come one, (Y/N) examined the tall blond before taking his leave. Just as his hand reached for the door handle, Tsuki had the absolute fucking audacity to clap a hand on (Y/N)’s wrist. He bit his lip and forced his body not to punch the bastard. 

 

“You have about a second to un-fucking-hand me or you’ll meet God.” (Y/N)’s words seethed through clenched teeth. Tsuki’s hand didn’t move and for a second (Y/N) had to admit the kid had some balls. “Alright, what do you want, shit stain?” (Y/N) whipped his head around and gave Tsuki his best glare of utter annoyance and irritation. 

 

“You certainly are very coy, aren’t you? Hiding in behind curtains during the day and running the streets at night. Although I guess I should be honored, I mean it’s not every day you meet one of the most well-known assassins, Mr. Wolf.” Satisfaction gleamed in Tsukishima’s amber eyes, a wicked smirk pulling at this features. You felt your expression darken, eye hooded as you stood before the amused Megane.

 

“Is it normal in Japan for everyone to get tied into business that’s not their own?” You wondered allowed, voice even and giving away nothing about what you might have been feeling. Leaning your head back you scratched the back of your neck and smiled sheepishly. It was an odd act and Tsukishima was unsure of what to make out of it. You were a contract killer and this man knew it, so why did you seem bashful about his knowing? Was it a warning? Or just an innocent reaction?

 

There was nothing innocent about you; Tsuki could tell from your slouched shoulders and heavy eyes. You had seen things other would never fathom. “What game are you playing, (L/N)? Aren’t you supposed to kill me now that I know your secret?”

 

You laughed dryly, “I certainly could, but it’s early and I’m not in the mood. Just tell me who you’re affiliated with and we can forget this ever happened.”

 

“And why should I do that? You’ll just go after them.” Tsukishima was willing to get himself killed in the name of antagonizing a person, but dragging Karasunoi into the mix was an entirely different matter. 

 

You waved a lay hand in front of your face, eyes blank and voice upbeat. “Oh, you have nothing to worry about. I keep my word.” then you brought a hand to your chin, “Though I guess the credibility of that statement could be challenged also.” You snapped, coming to a sudden revelation, “How about we come to a compromise. On the count of three, we each say our employers at the same time.”

 

“Tch. That’s so stupid, I would nev-”

 

“One. Two.Three! Seijou-”

 

“-Karasuno.” You blinked at Tsukishima’s confession. It all seemed to make sense. The way Tsuki was always out at night too and how he knew about your short interactions with Kageyama and Hinata. I mean it was either that or he was psychic. You put your money on the former. 

 

You have a shrug and turned to leave, an act that surprised Tsukishima senseless. “Oh ok. Good to know.”

 

Tsukishima jogged after you, making sure to not touch you, lest he wanted to end up on the ground again. “You’re so confusing? Are you sure you’re mentally stable?”

 

Just before closing your back door you laughed boisterously from your belly. “Definitely not.”


	11. In Which You Overstep Boundaries and Almost Fall Asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the inconsistencies in the use of third person and second person pronouns. After this chapter, I will exclusively be using second person pronouns if I can help it. Also, I wanted to use this chapter to center the plot points I wanted to focus and get a little bit of characterization done so I apologize for its uneventfulness.

(Y/N)'s body was warm, cheeks flushed with emotion even if his poker face contradicted such actions. It was a hopeless endeavor anyway, trying to subdue the flames under the skin. Simply not humanly possible, and if only you were anything but.

 

Iwaizumi observed the red in his countenance, watching his chest steadily rise up and down with his breaths. It didn’t exactly appear as though something was wrong, but more accurately that he wasn’t his usual self. Which, in itself was a hard thing to admit, since (Y/N) seemed to change personalities as quickly as blood coursed through his thin veins. He turned away before (Y/N) could catch him staring, not particularly in the mood to hear the stinging taunts and pointless teasing. 

 

Oikawa continued to advocate his notions as (Y/N) slowly narrowed his attention back onto him, a task more difficult than he would have anticipated. His voice orotund and attention drawing. “It seems that the shipments are being stolen at linear increments and the fact that its parts of cargo that go missing. Never an entire shipment.”

 

“Have you contacted the supplier?” Iwaizumi breaks in with inquisition, eyebrows furrowed in obvious frustration at the revenue lost and newly risen threats to the business. “

 

“Obviously, but they had nothing. Their records were clean and even at the final checkpoint the wright measurements and contents were all accurate. So the cargo must have gone missing in the time between pickup and when it was docked at the harbor. That would leave roughly a one hour window, and even then there were guards stationed. I believe I had twenty men at the bay that night. Same as the last three shipments.”

 

Iwaizumi nodded as he followed along with Oikawa’s implications. Elaborating on his partner’s thoughts Iwaizumi began to make his own conclusions. “So what you’re saying is this isn’t a problem with the supplier but rather an outside source that has inside intel about dropoff and pickup times as well as shipment locations. It is certainly concerning. Which means it would have to be someone we were relatively close to.”

 

“Do you think it could be the Shiratorizawa? We have already ruled out Karasuno, as much as I dislike that fact.”

 

Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair as (Y/N) rested his head on his arms, the limbs overlapping each other in order to form a makeshift pillow. He stared up at the dark-haired man, his eyes uncharacteristically soft as he watched Iwaizumi pinch the bridge of his nose. 

 

(Y/N) cut Oikawa off before he could speak again.“Maybe it’s someone in Seijou. It’s not entirely implausible. Also, who is your supplier?”

 

Oikawa blinked owlishly as (Y/N) surprised with his bold accusation. “You really think it’s someone from here?”

 

Shrugging with his entire body, he felt his face heat up again as that harlot red hue cascaded over his expression. His bodily function was as confusing as always if not more so today. He seemed to be embarrassed before these men but could not possibly comprehend as to why. “I mean, if they have intel that you normally wouldn’t give out to more than a few people then it seems likely.”

 

Oikawa’s caramel eyes narrowed, a malicious glint in the iris and his pupils dilated in anger. “Are you trying to tell me that one of my men betrayed me, the same men who have pledged loyalty to me for years now?”

 

“In a way, yes. But if I had the name of your supplier I might be able to rule out something like that. You really only have those two options at this point and I think you know what the best course of action is.”

 

Oikawa slammed his hand down in front of (Y/N)’s face, brimming with the need to show this impudent man the extent of his power and rain down wrath upon his nonchalant outlook. He bared his teeth, the straight ivories suddenly seeming to be dangerously sharp and the corners of his eyes upturned in what would have been contentedness is another situation. “You’re right. I do know what to do and let me tell you what it is. You’re going to sit your ass right there and do absolutely fucking nothing while I kill the motherfucker who thinks he can screw over Seijou. The chances of it being one of my men are far less likely than you getting whacked if you open that disgusting mouth of yours again.”

 

(Y/N) stared blankly at Oikawa, lifting his head from its previously comfortable position. He fought back the urge to dig his teeth into his lips. He even tried to force the color from his face but to no luck. He said nothing, keeping his expression so till that I was even hard to tell if he was breathing, if not for the red splotching his face.

 

Oikawa’s face shot out to grab his collar, pulling (Y/N) halfway across the table. “Do you fucking understand me?”

 

(Y/N)it's muscles all tensed and it took an enormous amount of self-control to stop himself from swinging at the Oikawa, as alluring as his face was. Instead, he opted for a strong nod and lied through his teeth. “I won’t do anything, this is your business to take care of and my hands are already full trying to keep you alive now as it is.”

 

The tension in the air seems to disappoint as Oikawa roughly dropped (Y/N) back into his chair, giving him a closed eye grin and he wiped his sweaty palms on the pants of his suit. “Well, I’m glad to see that the head between your ears isn’t as obsolete as I thought.” (Y/N) choose to ignore the obvious provocation and insult. 

 

Iwaizumi looked between the two, unsure of what had just occurred. (Y/N) seemed to be submissive and it was frightening, to say the least. His compliance was unusual but when faced with Oikawa’s threats, he had reeled himself in. Now if only that applied in more situations. 

 

He stood up, the metal chair he had sat on screeching against the floor as it dragged. His hands went to your pocket as he thumbed the outline of the lighter. It did him no comfort, especially since Iwaizumi has confiscated his cigarettes before the meeting, stating that he “didn’t need your distracting habits to interfere with urgent business”. Such horsehit, really. But he was forced to comply. 

 

“I’m going home, I’m tired.” You stalked out of the room, legs carrying you in a discreet manner that made you seem so much smaller than you were. 

 

They watched you leave, your back hunched and thought silently to themselves. “He’s been acting strange lately, this might be detrimental to performance. But more than that...I’m concerned for his rationality.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Updates will most likely be slow but I appreciate you being here. Make sure you drop a kudo and comment :)


	12. Kind of a chapter but not really tbh

Hiya there! So I was recently rereading this over and wow do I fucking hate this! So I decided in the middle of writing the 11th chapter that this was going to eat at me until I die so I'm totally going to redo this. I won't post any f the redone chapters until I get back to the same point I was here before. I am not abandoning this just deeply disappointed with myself! It will still be here too. So here's the little bit of the new chapter I got done just to fuck with you guys! 

 

Thinking was something that was difficult for him, such a simple process that bred such negativity and desolation. There was nothing logical about these things but they existed and proved to be integral to daily life despite the obvious setbacks they provided. The constant rambling, terribly discordant fantasies, and sickening impulses often brought on by a basic stimulus. This in itself was difficult for him to describe considering the fact that these days thinking was the past and the future, full of failures that had happened and the inevitable doom he was to face.

 

(Y/N) guessed that all this is what had lured him to the building again, the gym where he sparred with those two strapping men all those weeks ago. The memory was almost fond if not an unorthodox feeling of foreshadowing that harrowed him. Or perhaps it was the realization that he was teetering on the fringe of disaster and stability. Not the first time it had happened, but the entire process of becoming a new person was tedious and despite his normal disposition (Y/N) felt weird when he thought of his new mutuals. It was not something he knew of so it was impossible to equate it to something in his respective radar of emotions. 

 

(Y/N) figured this was a chance at getting a hold of himself, through sweat and detoxification, one of which would prove fruitless as always. Shutting out his cerebrum as he entered the gym, (Y/N) scanned the gym for the familiar hair of the notoriously rowdy gym members with the decent faces. They spotted him first and on a rare occasion (Y/N) was started. 

 

“Yo! You, strong guy, how about you come over to us and help us with some weights?” Bokuto had a booming voice that made heads all over swivel between the sulky male and the loud owlman. With huffs they all turned back to their previous activities as (Y/N) languidly jogged over to them, his expressional meticulously unreadable. Bokuto greeted him with a firm clap on the back as Kuroo gave him a wink. It looked rather sultry, stirring a raised eyebrow from (Y/N). 

 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say that I just walked straight into the opening of a gay porno,” (Y/N) mused in good nature. 

 

Kuroo gave an unattractive snort, “Then I guess you wouldn’t be walking straight into it then, huh?” This led Bokuto to give an even uglier laugh, a mixture between a tea kettle and a Windex bottle. Despite the temptation to give into the inner stirrings he felt, (Y/N) kept his expression only slightly differentiated. 

 

“Your humor is shit, just thought I would let you know.” Bokuto continued to cackle and had even taken up throwing his head back as he pointed dramatically at Kuroo. Kuroo gave Bokuto a glare before clearing his throat and looking at (Y/N) expectedly. 

 

“Yeah, yeah just pick up a few weights and lift with us.” You give him a curt nod and did so, the ridged metal felt solid in your grip and was a slight comfort. You weren't so transparent that you could phase through things. Better to be opaque than clear, words can’t break a wall after all. However, there was also mallots and fear, such things could break any man.


End file.
